A Life Passed By
by WhetherRose
Summary: A little bit of everything; Part in Harry's time, part MWPP (Sirius, some L/J) Elizabeth enters Hogwarts in her 4th year & becomes obsessed with uncovering her past. But will her discoveries satisfy her or just put her new friends (Harry&co) in danger?
1. Reminders of Magic

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Disclaimer: The Satine girls – Elizabeth, Samantha & Sarah, are mine. But I owe basically everything else to JK Rowling. Including the plot, because without Harry Potter, I would never have been inspired to write this.

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Author's Note: This chapter isn't the most exciting, but please don't abandon me yet! I'm open to reviews of any kind, especially constructive criticism. I have two goals in posting this story: 1) to improve my writing (so please help!) and 2) to make my own contribution to the world of Fanfiction, which I've already taken so much enjoyment out of. So please read this!

Oh, any time you see *~*~* it means I'm jumping between modern day and MWPP time. (*** is just a normal break – no time hopping). I wasn't planning to do these flashbacks originally, but I couldn't help developing Samantha's story in full. Besides, I love the Marauders! There will be a lot of Sirius in here (not this chapter, but soon). Some Lily/James, too, but it's not focused on them. I love L/J fics, but I don't think I'm ready to try my hand at one yet. For the present I'll just continue reading and loving everyone else's! 

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Chapter One: Reminders of Magic

Beep! beep! beep! beep! Elizabeth Satine rolled on her side, and using her pillow to cover her ears with one hand, tried to find the snooze button on her alarm clock with the other. She groped her way blindly along her bedside table. Where _was _that alarm clock? There! Her hand reached out to turn it off, but instead sent it tumbling to the floor.

__

"Zut alors!" the girl exclaimed, jumping out of bed. It was then that she noticed what time it was. Within seconds she had shut off the alarm and was racing down the stairs into the front hall. Her mother's voice floated in from the kitchen. 

"Elizabeth, hon? Can you get the paper for me?" 

With an exasperated sigh, Elizabeth sprinted to the front door. She could _not_ let her mom know she'd slept in late again. She stepped outside into the bright morning sunlight. It was surprisingly warm; spring had obviously come over-night. Bending down to fetch the paper, a letter, dropped neatly on top, caught her attention. She picked it up and examined it curiously. Heavy parchment, emerald ink script, and it was addressed to. . . _her_.

"Hey, Elizabeth!" a voice called from across the street. "Going to school like that?"

Elizabeth turned to see Scott Derin, the cute neighborhood boy who was three years her senior, standing at the bus stop corner. Then she looked down to realize she was still in her pajamas – a pair of light blue shorts and a tank top. She fought off a blush as she called back, "Watcha worried about? I still have five minutes before the bus comes!" She darted back inside, tossed the newspaper on the kitchen floor, and raced back upstairs to get dressed. The letter was stuffed into her backpack without a second thought.

***

Four minutes later she emerged at the bus stop in a light flowery spring dress and sandals. Good weather deserved to be celebrated. As she ran a hand through her long, light brown hair, which she hadn't had the time to put up, she heard Scott give a low whistle. "Impressive, Satine," he said. "You don't look like a last-second job at all."

"Some people don't need an hour to gel their hair," she replied tartly. Scott rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was a smart little thirteen-year-old to deal with. But he had to admit, she was rather attractive. And smart . . . and sweet . . . and mature for her age . . . His thoughts were interrupted as the old yellow school bus pulled up. Sidestepping Elizabeth, who glared angrily as he passed, Scott jumped aboard and made his way to the back where his friends were waiting.

Elizabeth found an empty seat in the middle and sat down with a sigh. There had to be something more to life than exchanging early morning taunts with Scott Derin. Just then she spied a corner of creamy parchment peaking out of her backpack, and she curiously withdrew the letter that had been discovered on the doorstep. She paused before opening it, noticing what she had missed earlier – it was addressed simply "Miss Elizabeth Satine," and there was no stamp. She opened the letter and placed it in her lap so she could french braid her hair while reading. But once she saw the contents of the letter, her hands stopped in mid-air and her hair was forgotten. 

__

"Dear Miss Satine," it read. _"You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . . ."_

Her eyes scanned the rest of the page, which consisted primarily of a supply list and directions to catch a train. A school for witches and wizards? Which you got to from some Platform 9 ¾? In Britain – on the other side of the ocean? Elizabeth began to laugh, and was soon in hysterics, earning her quite a number of stares.

"Yes, that's my neighbor," Scott's voice wafted up from a few rows back. "She doesn't have any friends to sit with, so she tries to entertain herself. Quite sad, really." He and his friends chuckled as Elizabeth threw him a dirty look. 'Scott must be super sensitive about his hair,' she thought, annoyed. She looked back to the letter and nonchalantly tossed it into her bag. It was obviously just another one of her exasperating neighbor's jokes. Well, Scott wasn't going to fool her this time.

***

By the end of the school day, Elizabeth had read and reread the letter at least twenty times. During lunch, between classes, in the middle of a boring biology lecture . . . her thoughts kept returning to it. Inside the first letter, which she had read on the bus, she had discovered a second envelope addressed to Sarah Satine, her mother. Only no one had called Sarah by her maiden name for years. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at how odd it looked, scrawled in flowing script across the parchment. She, Elizabeth, had used the last name Satine all her life, because Sarah, for some reason, thought it was important. Something about how all Satine women pass their maiden name on to their daughters. But Elizabeth's mother had been Mrs. Sarah Reyes ever since her marriage.

It was this unusual name that had prevented Elizabeth from opening the second envelope. The contents of the first letter had been strange enough, although they could easily be dismissed as a prank. But Elizabeth felt an inexplicable shiver whenever she held looked at her mother's name written there on the second letter. It looked so _alone_. And the last thing Sarah Reyes liked was to be alone. She was confident and strong and willful, but a mournful look came into her eyes whenever her husband left for work or her daughter left for school, as if she might never see them again.

Yet despite this, Elizabeth's curiosity had grown enough by the end of the day to overcome her disquietude. Why would Scott include her mother in this pathetic joke? She tore open the second letter.

Dear Sarah, 

I understand your reasons for abandoning our world, and your fear at returning, but please hear me out before discarding this letter. What happened to Samantha is not your fault. You could have done nothing to protect her. Do not punish Elizabeth for your sister's death. She deserves the chance to develop the powers she was born with. You must realize that this cannot be kept secret from her forever, no matter how many memory charms you perform. I will not waste your time by telling you how much safer the wizarding world is now, but I will ask you to return to us. Sarah, your presence, your powers, and your friendship are greatly missed. Even if you will not leave your Muggle refuge, at least send me word if you ever receive this letter. I cannot bear the fact that you have been able to conceal yourself so well that even Hogwarts cannot find you. But I promise you this – whether in a day or in ten years, one day we'll track you down, you will finally read this, and I will hopefully hear from my friend again.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Elizabeth was shaking by the time she finished reading this. Her first emotion was outrage – how dare Scott try to remind Elizabeth's mother of Aunt Samantha's death?!? If this truly was a joke, then it was lowdown and cruel. But – and this was the thought that was more pressing now in Elizabeth's mind – what if this _wasn't_ a joke? And if this were real, would her mother ever admit to it? Skipping past the bus line, Elizabeth decided to walk home. And formulate a plan.

***

"Hey Mom!" Elizabeth cried cheerfully as she walked through the front door.

"Good afternoon, sweetheart!" Her mother swooped in and hugged her tight. "Isn't it a beautiful day? Spring-cleaning is always so much more pleasant when the sun is shining! You know, that's what I love so much about Connecticut – all this sunshine! It makes Winchester seem nothing but clouds and rain in comparison! Of course, we had plenty of sun in England, too, don't get me wrong, but doesn't it just seem like . . ." Sarah paused, one hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, the other poised poetically in the air, "like our whole_ life_ has brightened since moving here?"

Elizabeth backed away. It always caught her off-guard when Sarah jumped into one of her sudden happy moods. "Mother," she said, "I've lived here all my life, so I wouldn't exactly know."

"Oh, that's right! My little American daughter!" 

This made Elizabeth laugh. In her mind her whole family was American. She'd never heard her mother speak in a British accent. In fact, her mom's life growing up in England was very rarely mentioned, if ever. Sarah looked at her daughter quizzically. "So, did you have a good day at school?"

Elizabeth was suddenly reminded of her plan. She walked to the kitchen table, dropped her backpack to the floor, and summoned a nonchalant laugh. "Just like any other," she replied. "Except you won't believe the ridiculous joke that awful Scott Derin tried to play on me!" She took out the letter. While her back was turned to her mother as she placed the parchment on the table, she took a deep breath and muttered to herself, "You can do this. Just take it slowly and coax the truth out of her." 

But discovering the truth turned out to be a lot easier than expected. She turned to her mother and laughed, "He wrote this insane letter about some school I'm supposed to be going to. It's called Hogwarts – for witches and wizards! Can you even imag . . ." 

Sarah screamed, and as her hands flew up in the air, the letter on the table burst into flames. Elizabeth jumped back in shock, and watched, horrified, as the parchment writhed helplessly in the fire. "No!" she cried. "Stop!" The flames stopped, and the letter lay unharmed. Slowly, Elizabeth turned to face her mother. The two stared at each other. Both were pale and shaking, but for different reasons. "So," Elizabeth said, "I'm a witch, aren't I?"

***

It was evening, and Elizabeth sat outside her parent's bedroom with her back to the hallway wall. It wasn't hard to hear her parents talking since she had opened the bedroom door a crack. They were so caught up in an argument that they hadn't yet noticed.

"Why can't I just use a memory charm? I've done it before!" Sarah's voice floated out.

Her father's voice was stern. "When?" he exclaimed.

"Well, she's a witch, so it's natural that her powers show every once in a while when she's emotional! She's been making little things happen ever since she was a baby! Although I've never seen her put out a fire . . ."

"It's different this time, Sarah. You let _your_ powers get the better of you, too."

"I can make her forget!"

"But will Hogwarts forget? You read the letter! It's obvious they've been tracking us down for years. You think they'll just give in now that they've finally got a letter through to us? No! They'll try even harder!"

"I'll use more charms! My protection charms kept us hidden for thirteen years – I can find some to hide us longer!"

"Sarah, you're not as powerful as you used to be. You haven't used magic in years."

"My family is famous for its power in charms! And I can do anything I set my mind to! Don't tell me what I can and can't do! What would you know? You're just a Muggle!" Elizabeth shuddered as her mother's voice rose emotionally. She could just imagine Sarah's eyes alight with desperation.

"Sarah . . ." her father's voice was soothing.

A sob tore at Sarah's throat, and Elizabeth heard her sink onto the bed. "But Nick! I can't go back there! We left that all behind – witches and wizards, Hogwarts, England . . . we have a new life now. A _safe_ life. I vowed to protect Elizabeth, give her a normal upbringing – don't tell me I've lost it all! Things are perfect here! Don't make me go back!"

Nick sighed. "How can it be perfect if it's all a charade? Don't deny Elizabeth her powers. I know how much yours mean to you. And we don't have to move. The only reason she got accepted into Hogwarts is because they don't know we've left Britain. She can go to a wizardry school here in Connecticut." There was a brief silence, in which Sarah's sniffling slowly stopped.

"No," she said, her voice determined. "If she's going anywhere, it's going to be Hogwarts. I hope your boss is still willing to give you that position in the London division of your company." Sarah stood up and a smile spread across her tear-stained face. "Because we're going home."

*~*~*

"Sarah! Samantha! Get back here! You're going to be late!" Shelby Satine cried out the door of her old Victorian home in Winchester, England. All she received in reply were a few far-off giggles from her daughters. "GIRLS!!!" Shelby stomped her foot impatiently, then looked down to see three angelic faces smiling up at her.

"Why, whatever is the matter, mother dearest?" The smallest of the three asked, brushing a light brown curl from her sparkling blue eyes.

Shelby sighed. "Samantha, get inside and wash up. I will not have you looking a mess your first day at Hogwarts. And hurry! We have ten minutes to leave, and you're only half-packed!" Samantha grinned, and skipped off inside. Her mother turned to a girl who looked like an exact replica of Samantha, just a little taller, and with slightly darker curls. "And Sarah! You remember how we almost missed the train last year for _your_ first year! Go help your sister pack!" Sarah darted through the screen door. 

Her mother started to follow her, when she finally noticed there was a third child still standing on the porch. Shelby turned and smiled. "Why, hello, Lily, dear."

The girl, with long red hair and bright green eyes, grinned. "Good morning, Mrs. Satine," she said pleasantly. Shelby noticed she was already in her school robes – perfectly black, with not one stain or wrinkle. Lily was the Satines' next door neighbor, and Samantha's best friend, and would be starting at Hogwarts with her this year. Shelby fervently hoped that Lily's good manners would rub off on her daughter. "My mum just bought a mini-van, so we have plenty of room if Samantha and Sarah would like a ride to King's Cross. Only . . ." Lily hesitated, "she was wondering if you could drive with us. Mum's a nervous driver and we'll have to go through the city to get to the station. She could use some support. She's already kind of frazzled after finding out her daughter's a witch."

Shelby laughed. "To be honest, I've never even driven a Muggle vehicle, but I'm sure we'll all manage somehow. If only those girls of mine would hurry . . . What were you three doing out in the fields?"

"Oh, nothing really, just talking, I guess," Lily blushed, and Shelby noticed her try to hide something in her hand. A wand.

"You girls weren't doing magic again, were you?" she cried despairingly.

"Oh, don't worry mother," Sarah said as she appeared on the porch, lugging a trunk. "I wasn't doing any, and Hogwarts only makes sure the kids who already go there don't do magic over the summer, so Lily and Sammy can't get in trouble yet."

Shelby put her face in her hands before asking with exhaustion, "And how do Lily and Samantha know how do magic?"

Samantha, tugging with all her might at her trunk, commented between gasps for breath, "Sarah taught us!" 

Sarah raised her eyes skyward and sighed. Little sisters just have to tell everything, don't they? She looked back down to find her mother staring at her accusingly. "Well, honestly, mum!" she cried. "I don't understand why we can't do magic over the summers anyway! When I grow up I'm going to petition so my daughter can do magic whenever she wants!"

Her mother rolled her eyes, "Of course you are, Sarah. Now, hurry girls! Run on over to the Evans' – we're riding with them, I'll take care of the trunks." 

Samantha and Lily darted off, bubbling over with excitement and nervousness again. Sarah followed them at a distance, muttering, "I can do anything I want to! And if I want my children to be allowed to do magic whenever they feel like it, then by golly, they'll be able to!"

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AN: Okay, so it's kind of boring, but it'll get better, I promise! Even if you plan to never read this again, please (please, please!) review before you go! I don't mind if you say you hated it, just say why, or make a suggestion to improve. I'd really appreciate reviews, but I'm continuing whether I get any or not 'cuz I'm always in a better mood when I'm writing something. So if you don't review now, you can always come back . . . (I don't sound _too_ desperate, do I?)


	2. But What About Ravenclaw?

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Disclaimer: The Satine girls are mine; basically everything else is JK Rowling's.

AN: I've decided not to focus this on any particular time period (modern or MWPP) since the stories just intertwine anyway. I'll just write whatever I feel like doing, and when I have more reviewers (notice I say 'when' and not 'if' – I'm very optimistic), I'll be glad to take suggestions. Okay – just bear in mind that *~*~* means a switch between time periods, and that I'd love for you to read & review (& criticize if you want) this story! Thanks, Rose.

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Chapter Two: But What About Ravenclaw?

Samantha stood in front of the Great Hall nervously hopping from one foot to the other. _Left, right, left, right. _Lily tapped her on the shoulder, and whispered, "Stop that, you have nothing to worry about." Samantha stopped, but started again as a professor stepped forward to announce the beginning of the sorting ceremony. _Left, right, left, right._ Lily was suddenly too nervous to reprimand her friend, and instead found it rather comforting to focus on the rhythm of Samantha's feet. _Left, right, left, right. _All too soon, her name was called.

"Evans, Lily!"

Lily stepped forward, trembling, when a mocking voice met her ears. 

"What's wrong, Evans? Scared?" 

Lily didn't have time to turn around to see who had spoken, but she could guess easily enough. James Potter had been teasing her ever since their first day together at Muggle day-care (AN – There must have been some wizards who sent their kids to day-care. Besides, I'm sure Mrs. Potter could've used some time away from her little Marauder-in-training.) She squared her shoulders and walked bravely to the stool in front of the long staff table. It was only a second after she placed the sorting hat on her head that it yelled the word, "GRYFFINDOR!" out to the hall. Lily smiled, relieved, and made her way to her new house table. Sitting down, she grinned encouragingly at Samantha, who was still hopping nervously in place.

"Too bad," Samantha thought. "I really wanted to be in the same house as Lily. Oh well, maybe Ravenclaws and Gryffindors will have some classes together." She continued to watch the sorting with mild interest. She laughed as "Potter, James" was made a Gryffindor. She could just imagine the fights he and Lily would start together. Only two more people before her turn. "Queens, Emily" became a Hufflepuff. One more . . . "Reven, Donald" became a Ravenclaw. Samantha bit her lip.

"Satine, Samantha!"

She stepped forward and found her way to the stool, sat, and placed the hat on her head. "Stop trembling!" she reminded herself. "Only a few more seconds and you'll be sitting beside Sarah at the Ravenclaw table."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat cried.

Samantha stayed frozen in place. She was imagining things. The hat hadn't spoken yet. It was supposed to say "Ravenclaw." She would leave when it said "Ravenclaw." A few students started laughing as Samantha remained on the stool, unmoving. 

Samantha heard someone clear her voice just behind her. "Miss Satine?"

Samantha looked up sweetly. "Yes?"

"You may take your seat now."

"No I can't."

"Umm . . . why not?"

"The hat hasn't said 'Ravenclaw' yet."

Pause. "Uh, no, it hasn't. You're in Gryffindor."

It was as if someone had just lit a fire under the little girl on the stool. She jumped up and cried defiantly, "BUT I'M A RAVENCLAW!"

Before the Professor could stop her, Samantha had collapsed on the floor in tears. "I'm a Ravenclaw! With Sarah! We're supposed to be Ravenclaws together – she promised! Just like mum and grandmother and everyone! Your stupid hat made a mistake! Make it take it back! Tell it I'm supposed to be a Ravenclaw!"

Professor McGonagall was new to the school, and stared at the sobbing eleven-year-old helplessly. What a perfect way to start her career at Hogwarts! She sighed, still wondering what to do, when a smiling girl with flowing red hair appeared and leaned over Samantha. "Come on, Sammy," she whispered soothingly. "Come back to our table. I'm really glad you're in the same house as me. Sarah's doing fine already, but I'll need your help if I'm ever going to adjust to this place." Slowly but surely, Lily coaxed her friend over to the Gryffindors, and the sorting continued.

"Snape, Severus" looked put-off that he had had to wait so long for his turn, but the first year Gryffindors hardly noticed as he was sorted into Slytherin. They were all peering curiously at Samantha and Lily.

"Hey, Evans!" Lily cringed as she heard James Potter's voice. "Is that the only kind of people who will be your friends – sniveling cry-babies?" 

Lily had spent three years of preschool ignoring Potter's comments, but this time she whirled around and slapped him hard across the face. "Stuff it, Potter," she responded icily. "I happen to love having a high-strung emotional friend. She's a lot more interesting than people like you – devoid of any real feeling." She turned back to her friend, leaving a stunned James.

Sirius Black, James' best friend, was highly amused by Lily's reaction. He had always taken her for the non-confrontational kind. He went and sat next to Samantha. "Don't worry, you'll love Gryffindor. Any class with James and me in it is bound to be entertaining." 

Samantha looked up at him with a faint smile. He was startled by how pretty her bright blue eyes were. She shrugged, "Thanks. I'll be fine. I guess it just never occurred to me that I might not be with my sister." She giggled lightly. "I let my emotions get the better of me sometimes."

"_Some_times?" Lily smiled at her friend fondly.

Sirius just nodded dumbly, his eyes still riveted on her face. He was about to reply when James poked him in the ribs. He was still in a bad mood from Lily's comment, and was angry with Sirius for not coming to his defense. "Watcha staring at, Black? You falling in love with her?"

Sirius jumped away from Samantha. "What?!?" he cried, disgusted. "I would never fall for a crybaby like that!" 

He and James retreated, leaving Samantha and Lily to roll their eyes and mutter, "Boys."

*~*~*

"Elizabeth!" Sarah Satine looked wildly around for her daughter. "Elizabeth! Where are you? We're going to be late!"

Sarah jumped as a head poked out of the car window next to her. "I'm right here," Elizabeth smiled. "I've been waiting for you ten minutes at least. What were you doing?"

Sarah looked frazzled as she walked around to the driver's side. "Just gathering up some last minute things for you to take to school," she responded. "Oh, dear, I hope we make it on time to catch the train. The Hogwarts Express doesn't wait all that long at the station. Then again, we were always late when Sam and I were in school, so I wouldn't know all that well."

Elizabeth looked at her mother curiously. In thirteen years she had heard Samantha's name mentioned only once or twice, so it surprised Elizabeth that over the past five months she'd heard it at least ten times. Then again, the past five months hadn't exactly been normal. 

Once Sarah got the idea into her head that they should move back to England, she had pursued the goal with a passion. She put her husband in charge of selling their house in Connecticut and finding a new one in England during one of his business trips. Amazingly, the old Victorian home in Winchester Sarah had grown up in was still uninhabited. Apparently the Ministry of Magic had intervened when it was put up for sale on the Muggle market, claiming the magical residue in it was too thick for any Muggle to live a normal life there. Sarah was thrilled to have her old home back.

Meanwhile, she was busy every second trying to catch Elizabeth up on magic so she could enter 4th year with the other kids her age. It was no easy task, but with Sarah's persistent teaching, innumerable late nights and early mornings, and dozens of old school books, Elizabeth was caught up through first, second, and half of third year by the end of August, only five months after receiving the letter from Hogwarts. 

Then again, it's a lot easier to teach when you only have one student to focus on rather than a full classroom. Despite the difficulty of cramming so much new information into her brain at once, Elizabeth was grateful she was missing out on all the homework assignments and compositions she would have had to do in school. With her mother teaching, being able to perform the magic was enough, who needed to write about it? Of course, she still had half a year of material to make up, but Professor McGonagall, astonished at what Elizabeth had accomplished so far, was certain it could be covered in spare time at school.

It seemed like those months had flown by, and now here Elizabeth was, less than a day away from becoming a part of Hogwarts. She wasn't nervous. After all her studying she felt like she'd been a part of the wizarding world all her life. But she worried how her mother would take it with her away at boarding school. "It's okay, Mom," she said reassuringly. "We'll make it with plenty of time."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Yes, yes, of course you're right. We'll be fine." 

They arrived on Platform 9 ¾ just in time to watch the scarlet Hogwarts Express pull out of the station.

***

"I've been late for the Hogwarts Express dozens of times, but I've never missed it altogether!" Sarah cried despairingly as she and Elizabeth drove away from King's Cross.

"I've missed it every time over the past three years," Elizabeth responded.

There was a pause before Sarah asked, "Do I detect a tone of resentment in your voice?"

"Well how come you never told me about the wizarding world? Why wouldn't you let Hogwarts find me?"

With a sigh, Sarah said, "Because you're _my_ little girl."

She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until Elizabeth replied, confused, "My going away to school can't change the fact that I'm your daughter."

Sarah tried to answer cheerfully, "No, I guess not," but Elizabeth saw a tear glistening on her mother's cheek before she had the chance to brush it away.

Elizabeth sighed. It was going to be a long ride to Hogwarts.

***

Sarah gave her daughter one last hug before pushing her off towards the entrance to Hogwarts. "Now don't forget to give my letter to Professor McGonagall, and remind her you'll need flying lessons – I packed a broomstick in with your clothes so you're all set. Tell her I'm sorry, but I really don't feel like re-entering Hogwarts quite yet. Now hurry! You're late as it is! Find the first years and wait with them, the sorting should be starting any minute. See you at Christmas! Make sure to write! And have a great time! Love you! Bye!" With that, Sarah jumped in her car and drove away. It seemed to Elizabeth that her mother was a little too eager to leave the school grounds. 

Elizabeth was left stranded, staring up at the large old castle in apprehension. She waved a wand at her trunk, muttered the banishing spell, and quickly added, "Go wherever the trunks are supposed to be." She watched as her belongings sailed away, hoping they'd end up in the right place. 

She wanted to stay outside a little longer to summon some confidence, but the heat was sweltering, although the sun had set long ago. Sitting in an air-conditioned car all day had made her forget the awful heat wave. She therefore darted inside, only to discover it was just as hot and stuffy there as outdoors. A group of tiny first years were standing in a side room, dripping with sweat under their heavy black robes. 

No one looked up when Elizabeth entered, and she smiled, realizing her unsettled nerves were nothing compared to the nerves of these kids. They were either unnaturally still or jittering like crazy. Some looked ready to faint, although that could have been from the heat. 

A second later a stern looking woman with graying brown hair pulled into a tight bun appeared in a doorway at the opposite end of the room from the one Elizabeth had entered. "Okay," she said, "follow me." The first years filed out of the room silently, Elizabeth following curiously behind. The bright lights of the Great Hall were dazzling, so Elizabeth stepped back into the shadow of the doorway and found a place with a good view of the stool and sorting hat. 

Slowly but surely all the first years were sorted into their new houses. After "Zwen, Stephanie" became a Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll of names and was about to remove the stool and hat when she caught sight of Elizabeth, hovering in the doorway. Elizabeth smiled politely, but stopped, confused, as McGonagall raised her eyebrows and gave a disapproving click of her tongue. 

The Professor cleared her throat. "My mistake," she announced. "It appears we have one student left to be sorted." The Great Hall rang with the groans of hungry students. Elizabeth stepped forward uncertainly and the Hall instantly silenced. She could feel every pair of eyes instantly glued to her. 

Professor McGonagall suddenly laughed. Many of the students looked shocked. "You must be Elizabeth?" she asked. Elizabeth nodded faintly. "Well," an amused smile played on her lips. "You certainly are just like your mother." 

Then the Professor turned to the rest of the Hall. "Students," she announced. "I'd like to introduce Miss Elizabeth Satine. She will be sorted as the first years are, but she will be joining our fourth years. Indeed," McGonagall glanced at Elizabeth again, **(AN: **Oops! I suppose this would be a good time to mention that I made up this story before the 4th book came out, so this is basically an alternate 4th year. Not that it matters too much, this just needs to occur after Harry & co. discover Sirius' innocence, but before Voldemort's return to power. Sorry for not mentioning that sooner . . . Anyway, back to story . . .**) **"if she were a first year I'm sure someone would have made sure she had put on her robes for the Sorting." 

Elizabeth suddenly realized why everyone was looking at her so strangely. She had forgotten her robes and was still wearing her Muggle clothes – a pair of jean shorts, a bright pink tank top, and her favorite sandals. Then again, maybe those were _envious_ looks. After all, everyone else looked like they were dying from the heat. "Miss Satine?" Professor McGonagall beckoned her forward, and Elizabeth sat, placing the hat carefully over her ponytail. 

The hat slipped down over her eyes, but she could still feel hundreds of eyes staring at her. A bright pink tank top was bound to stick out in a sea of black robes. The hat seemed to be probing her mind, looking for some clue as to where to place her. It opened at the brim and started to call out, "RAVEN . . ." but suddenly stopped. Elizabeth jolted. It felt as if something inside her had been opened up, some locked away information uncovered. A strangled sob emitted from her throat. Her head was pounding and her heart was racing and an insurmountable panic rose in her chest. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat cried. The pain stopped, and Elizabeth took off the hat, blinking rapidly to recover from her dizziness. Professor McGonagall was looking at her, concerned, and the Hall was dead silent again.

The silence was broken as an eruption of cheers broke out from the Gryffindor table. Elizabeth made her way towards her new house members, and sat down with a heavy sigh. She watched dazedly as Headmaster Dumbledore made his speech, and by the time the tables had filled with food, she found herself too exhausted to lift a fork. 

A concerned prefect was easily persuaded to lead her to Gryffindor tower before commencing his meal. Elizabeth wearily dragged herself through the common room and up the stairs to her dorm. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her belongings had made it to the right place, at the foot of her four poster canopy bed, but she didn't even go through them to find pajamas before collapsing on her mattress and falling fast asleep.

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AN: I know that kind of dragged on with some of the explanations, but I'm trying. Now that the story's set up I'm hoping it will be easier to get into it. Okay, I suppose I should go try uploading this before my computer freezes on me again . . . 


	3. One Too Many

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Disclaimer: Elizabeth & Samantha are mine. Everything else in this chapter I owe to J.K. Rowling.

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AN: Bonjour! Okay, I forgot to do this when I started this story. *Ahem!* This fanfic is dedicated to the Grand Duchess Katajena of Ambrosia, the one who begged me to write Elizabeth's story (although that was over a year ago so she may have forgotten by now . . .) and to Ra-chan, whose fault it is that I'm addicted to fanfiction in the first place (so if this is awful, blame her!) Oh, and of course, to Rayerth and Etoile, ever-present sources of inspiration and adoration. Who needs reviewers with you guys by my side? (Just kidding, everyone – please review!) 

Many thanks to my reviewers, too! Especially to Incurable Romantic, who caught me at one of my most common mistakes in writing this fic – forgetting Lily was Muggle-born. I've made that mistake so many times in writing this fic, but luckily I've caught most before posting the chapter. All but one, and now that, too, is fixed thanks to Incurable Romantic! If anyone catches that mistake again, or any other, please tell me! Thanks! 

Lastly, go read Ra-chan's HP fic, "Building Memories." It's a creative twist on the usual L/J story, and is very good so far. Also, I've lent Samantha to Ra-chan, so she makes some appearances in it. But before you go check out this great new HP fic, please read Chapter Three of mine (and review, _s'il vous plaît_!) --

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Chapter Three: One Too Many

_A little girl, ten or eleven years old, with curly brown hair and sparkling eyes, was laughing. Elizabeth smiled as she looked on. The child didn't notice her, but rather continued bubbling over with giggles, her eyes alight with joy, her happiness overflowing and filling the air. The laughter continued for several minutes, and Elizabeth slipped into a deep, blissful sleep as she listened to the sound. Innocence, youth, rapture, delight, spun a comforting web around her as the girl giggled on. _

But now there was something else. A hand, brittle, pale, white. But strong. It reached toward the child slowly. Closer . . . closer . . . Then, swift as lightning, it grabbed the girl's neck. It didn't choke her or hurt her, just held her. She stopped laughing mid-giggle. The light extinguished in her eyes.

Elizabeth woke with her head pounding. She lay back on her pillow staring up at the bed's rich velvet canopy. The silence was unbearable. She could still hear the little girl's laughter echoing in her ears. Jumping up, she flung open the curtains of her bed, and was instantly dazzled by the bright sunlight. The room was empty, as the other girls had left for breakfast long ago. But Elizabeth wasn't worried. She had been an expert at getting ready in a hurry when she was a Muggle, and now that she was a witch, she could be prepared within seconds.

"Let's see," she muttered, staring into the depths of her trunk. "What shall I wear? After all, I want to make a good impression on my first day."

She pulled on a pair of black capri pants and a light blue peasant top. With a wave of her wand her messed up bed-head was transformed into a cascade of soft curls, and a light blush and soft blue eyeshadow appeared on her face. Elizabeth smiled at herself in the mirror. "Perfect," she smiled, "Cute, but innocent." She was about to leave when she caught sight of her eyes, twinkling with anticipation. Her hands went cold as for a moment she saw the laughing child staring back at her. But then her own image returned, and shaking her head, Elizabeth turned and headed down to her first breakfast at Hogwarts.

***

Elizabeth paused at the door to the Great Hall and groaned as her eyes scanned the great sea of black before her. When was she going to get used to the idea of wearing robes? A few students were glancing in her direction, several giggling, and some just staring, stunned. "No biggie," Elizabeth thought nonchalantly. Nothing was going to ruin her first day at Hogwarts. "Accio robes!" she muttered, and a few seconds later, a black school robe floated into her hands. She slung it over one arm and made her way to the Gryffindor table cheerfully.

"Elizabeth! Over here!" Elizabeth turned to see two girls motioning her toward an empty seat beside them. She grinned and sat down.

"Hi!" one of them, a pretty girl with dark black hair, said. "I'm Parvati. This is Lavender." 

Lavender waved. "We wanted to talk to you last night at the feast, but you disappeared, and you were already asleep when we got upstairs. We're fourth years, too."

"Pleased to meet you," Elizabeth replied politely, staring ravenously at the food-covered table while her stomach reminded her that she had skipped dinner last night. As she piled her plate with breakfast, Lavender chattered non-stop at her side.

"I just _love_ your clothes!" she was saying. "Such unique style! At first I thought you were just clueless, but now I see that you're making a point. We need color in this old castle, and I don't see why the professors look down on Muggle clothing. You know, I tried wearing a Muggle scarf to accent my robes the other day and Professor McGonagall took one look at it and snatched it right off my . . ." Lavender stopped as Parvati poked her in the ribs. They both looked over at the Ravenclaw table and giggled. "Ooh, Elizabeth!" Lavender whispered. "Don't look now, but the cutest Ravenclaw fifth year is looking your way! I guess noticeable clothing pays off!" 

Elizabeth didn't waste her time explaining to Lavender that she hadn't dressed this way on purpose, that it was just a silly mistake. Instead she smiled sweetly. "You know, Lavender, I don't think he sees me at all. It seems to be _you_ he's looking at." Elizabeth couldn't be sure whom it was the fifth year was staring at, but she was relieved to hear Lavender gasp, "Oh! Parvati, pretend like we're having a really funny conversation!" Within seconds the two girls had forgotten Elizabeth, allowing her to slide to a seat at the other end of the table. Lavender and Parvati were nice, but Elizabeth couldn't deal with mindless chitchat this early in the morning. She had gotten enough of that at Muggle school.

The conversation going on at this end of the table seemed to be mainly a heated Quidditch argument between two redheaded twins and another redhead and his friend, a boy with tousled black hair and glasses. Elizabeth gave a relieved sigh. _This_ was more like the wizarding school environment she had imagined. 

"Ron, the best Chaser ever is NOT David Kinsolver! Edouard Principe could beat him on Cleansweep 2!"

"Principe! That old guy?! He's been retired – what? Two hundred years?"

"Eight, you numbskull! And he could beat Kinsolver today, piece of cake, even though Kinsolver's at the peak of his career!"

As the argument raged, Elizabeth heard a sigh of exasperation at her left. "Must they _always_ make such a big deal out of nothing?" Elizabeth turned to find a bushy brown-haired girl poring over a book.

"Hi," she held out a hand. "Elizabeth Satine."

The girl nodded, "Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you." Her tone was brisk, and after a disparaging look at Elizabeth's attire, she turned back to her book.

Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering what to say. She listened to the Quidditch argument, which was quickly heating up (Ron declared Edouard Principe couldn't catch a Quaffle if his life depended on it), for a minute, before turning back to the girl. "You know, I've never seen a Quidditch game," she commented. It came out sounding far more lame than she had planned.

Hermione didn't look up, but just said airily, "Is that so?" 

Elizabeth nodded pathetically. This was getting nowhere. She was about to walk away when Hermione suddenly changed her mind about guarding her silence and added, "I thought your kind liked to keep up on the hottest new players. You know – young, good-looking, rich, famous . . ." 

Elizabeth could have hugged her. Shrugging aside the comment, she spoke with sudden cheeriness. "Oh, thank goodness! You're just the type of friend I'm looking for! I don't mind people like Lavender and Parvati, but sometimes there needs to be more substance to a friendship than fluff! Give me a chance, I'm not all that I appear to be." Hermione looked up in surprise, and was about to speak, when the Quidditch argument burst onto a new level. 

"How DARE you say that about Principe!" Fred launched his scrambled eggs at Ron, who picked up his glass of orange juice. 

Elizabeth saw the danger and whipped out her wand. "Freglacio!" she cried as the juice was flung into the air, missing Fred by inches and coming straight toward the girls. It froze in mid-air, a perfect orange ice sculpture, before dropping to the table and shattering. The boys paused temporarily, all glancing at Elizabeth, bewildered. This gave Hermione the opportunity to stammer an amazed, "Sure, I'll give you a chance," to Elizabeth. But it also gave George the time to draw his wand and jinx a bowl of grapes to fly at Ron like squishy bullets. 

Elizabeth and Hermione, acting as one, stood up and walked briskly out of the Great Hall, avoiding further disaster.

***

"So you caught up on three years of magic over one summer?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm exactly caught up. It'll take a few months of extra tutoring to reach that point."

"But still, that's incredible!"

"Yeah, I would have more confidence though if Potions wasn't the first class I have at Hogwarts. I know the _theory_ behind all the potions you've done so far, but I've, um . . . never actually made one."

Harry and Ron entered first period Potions in time to hear Hermione cry, disbelievingly, "You're kidding! You've never made a potion?!?" She and Elizabeth were already seated near the middle of the room, and the boys came and took a seat at the desk behind them, straining to hear their conversation. "What are you going to do?" Hermione asked.

Elizabeth shrugged, worried at Hermione's concern. "I don't know, I thought I'd just figure it out as I go along. I mean, it can't be that hard, can it?" Hermione shrugged, not wishing to worry Elizabeth further. Ron snorted. 

The next minute was quiet as each prepared for the impending doom Snape was likely to bring on them. Snape always liked intimidating first classes. Slowly the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins trickled into the room, followed by the brooding Potion's Master himself.

"Cauldrons out!" he snapped as he arrived at his desk. "Turn to page 436 in your books and start reading the directions while I take attendance. We will be making Vanishing Potions today, and you will require the entire period. Go!" There was a great rustling as the students reached for their books. 

Snape breezed down the attendance list, and didn't pause until he came to the last name, which had been added in. "Elizabeth Satine?"

Elizabeth looked up from her reading and smiled winningly. "Yes, Professor?" 

He frowned. "What experience have you in the art of potions?"

She could feel the quick glances of Hermione and Ron, but Elizabeth held her smile. "Oh, I've read all about them," she gushed. "And I find them fascinating, sir! The power that can come from what appears to be just a simple liquid! And the power required to make them, too! I must say I greatly respect potion masters. To imagine that one extra drop of an ingredient can destroy the whole concoction – it must take such patience and precision, not to mention skill!"

Snape looked pleased, and the shadow of a smile twitched on his lips. While some students rolled their eyes at what they considered an obvious display of sucking up to the teacher, most of Elizabeth's classmates seemed stunned that she could show such a genuine interest in this most dreaded subject.

"Have you ever made a potion, Miss Satine?"

"No," she murmured. The near-smile on the professor's face vanished.

"Well," he said, "then you had better hope your degree of talent in this art equals that of your interest." He turned to the class. "Because this potion comprises one-third of your mark for first term. Organize into groups of two or three and get busy!"

"Sadistic jerk," Ron muttered. "He's just making it count so much because he knows we're all rusty after vacation."

Hermione turned around. "Well, we_ were_ supposed to be practicing over the summer, you know."

"Yeah, like anyone really does _that_," he replied, disgusted. Hermione flushed pink, and returned to facing forward.

Harry elbowed Ron. "Stop complaining, and start assembling the ingredients."

"I'm waiting for Hermione to get over here. What's taking her so long?" He was about to berate Hermione when he noticed that she had already started making a potion. But not with Harry and him. With that new girl and . . . Neville. "Hermione!" Ron cried. "What are you doing?!?"

She raised her eyebrows. It was quite obvious what she was doing, but she spelled it out for him anyway. "Starting the potion Professor Snape asked us to make." 

Ron was annoyed. "But why aren't you working with _us_? I need a good mark on this!"

"What, no faith in me, Ron?" Harry said with a grin.

Ron ignored him. "Just get over here, Hermione, will ya?"

"Maybe I don't want to work with someone who only values me as a way to get a good grade," she replied icily. 

Ron opened his mouth and closed it again, throwing his hands up in the air in despair. "She would rather work with someone who's never made a potion in her life and someone else who's never made a functioning potion in his," he muttered.

Hermione heard him, and remarked, "Better than working with you. I wish you luck, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Thanks." He was disappointed to not have Hermione working beside him, but he respected her for wanting to help the new girl. Elizabeth could use a friend. And extra help never hurt Neville. Besides, Harry doubted Snape would let him get away with a great grade even with Hermione's help. _Oh, well, it never hurts to try,_ he thought as he began to simmer a ladle of Disparue potion. Ron was chopping the long silvery strands of evengrass furiously beside him.

As the potion-making went on, Ron's mood worsened. Elizabeth, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of her life. "This is just like baking!" she cried ecstatically. Hermione smiled to see someone enjoying herself so much in Potions Class. And she was doing a terrific job on top of that. "At home I used to experiment with different recipes all the time. It takes a long time to find a successful new recipe. One pinch of salt too many can make all the difference. Mom _hates_ cooking, so it was all left to me. I was disappointed that here all the food is prepared for us. It's a different kind of pride that comes with making your own culinary masterpiece than with, say, an academic accomplishment, which is basically the only other thing I can do. I love sports, but I've yet to find one that I can actually play without my team considering me a curse. I'm really nervous about my flying lesson during lunch. I've never been on a broom before and . . ."

As Elizabeth chattered on, Ron chopped his ingredients finer and finer. How could this girl talk and talk and not be messing up her potion? He noticed her group's cauldron was simmering away quite nicely and was shining crystal clear. His own potion was a muddy green.

Ten minutes before the end of class, Snape announced, "We will now be testing your potions. Please find an object you would like to make disappear. It should only be out of sight for about three minutes although some Vanishing Potions can be made to last longer. But remember: do NOT try to use the potion on a living being. Vanishing Potions work on objects ONLY, and can have horrible side effects on people. And don't pick anything too valuable to make disappear, as I'm sure most of your potions will back-fire." He began testing potions on the Slytherin side of the room.

"This looks done to me," Elizabeth said as she took up a ladle of their potion and examined it.

"It looks perfect," added Hermione, a bit surprised it had turned out so well. After all, she was working with a beginner and, well, Neville.

Neville tremored. "We'll find out if it is soon. Do you think we can make the note from my grandmother disappear?" Elizabeth giggled. Neville's grandmother had written asking Professor Snape if her grandson could have extra help with Potions after school, since his summer practice has resulted in quite a few disasters. 

"No, we don't want to risk Snape's reading it first. We'll use my quill. _This_," Elizabeth deftly grabbed the letter from Neville's trembling fingers, "we'll take care of now." She tore up the note, waved her wand at it, and with a tiny spark, the pieces disintegrated. "Hermione's promised to help me catch on potion-making on the weekends. You can join us. I daresay that'll be more pleasant than spending your afternoons with Snape." Neville smiled gratefully.

"Shall we see how Miss Satine's first brew turned out?" Elizabeth, Neville, and Hermione jumped at the sound of their professor's voice. Luckily, it didn't seem like he'd overheard anything.

At the table behind them, Harry and Ron were frantically trying to fix their potion. It had lost the sickening green color for a pure white, but wasn't quite translucent yet. "Ron! Are you sure you only added five strands of evengrass?" Harry inquired desperately. Ron wasn't listening. He was watching enviously as Hermione poured three drops of her group's clear potion onto Elizabeth's quill, which vanished instantaneously. Ecstatic smiles spread across her partners' faces, and Snape looked shocked. 

"Ron! Are you listening?" cried Harry. Ron spun around suddenly, accidentally bumping into Harry's cauldron. It didn't fall off the table, but the force of the impact caused some of the white liquid to slosh out of the metal insides, right onto –

"Professor Snape!" Hermione yelped. "Are you alright?" 

Snape's hands were clutching tightly at his face, and when he removed them the class gasped in amazement. His features were pale and transparent, all except his left ear, which remained solid. He looked like a disfigured ghost. A furious disfigured ghost. "WEASLEY!!!" he cried. "What did I tell you about the side effects of a Vanishing Potion on humans?!? Not that you made your potion correctly anyway!! You and Potter both fail this assignment! And 20 points from Gryffindor!" 

He began storming from the room to see how bad the damage was when Elizabeth piped up timidly, "Uh, professor?" Snape whirled around and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Um . . . I understand the severity of Mr. Weasley's mistake, but I think 20 points from Gryffindor is punishment enough for that. If you'll look, you'll notice that our ladle, which was doused with Harry and Ron's potion when you were, has disappeared. So it might be too harsh to fail them when their potion does actually work." 

Snape scowled. "Very well, Miss Satine, I'll take that into consideration, but you'd do best not to question my judgement again or risk losing more house points. Mr. Malfoy – please supervise and make sure everyone cleans up properly before leaving. I need to see Madame Pomfrey." 

He swept out of the room as Neville muttered, "But there wasn't a ladle there, we already put that away." Elizabeth shushed him, and Harry grinned widely. "Thanks." He held out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Elizabeth Satine," she replied, shaking it warmly. "And what is Mr. Weasley's first name?"

Ron glared at Elizabeth with disgust and asked incredulously, "Do you think you can steal our partner, make our potion an absolute disaster, stand up for us and make us look like helpless fools, and then turn around and be our _friend_?!?" 

And with that he stormed out of the classroom.

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AN: That was meant to be much longer, but I feel like if I don't update soon, I'll go insane. Besides, I feel like I've been forcing this chapter, and I don't want to linger on it. I usually just flow through a story as I write, but with recent pressures in school and elsewhere, I just can't get into this. Then again, how can you write well when you tell yourself, "Okay, I only have 20 minutes to work on fanfiction tonight"? Make it like a homework assignment and you're obviously never going to get anywhere! I think I've been averaging three painful sentences per night. I wish I had the time to just sit down and _write_. But after this week, I should ease up a little, and I know exactly where the next few chapters are going, so I'm ready to get into this. (Of course, a few reviews wouldn't slow me down any J ). But I'm rambling, and whining (never a good combination), so I'll leave you in peace. Good night and sweet dreams! ~Rose 


	4. In the Eyes . . .

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Disclaimer: As usual, Elizabeth, Samantha & Sarah are mine. So are spell names you don't recognize, but that's not too important. Everything else is property of J.K. Rowling.

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AN: After a torturous two weeks of AP & standardized testing, I am back! The focus of this story is on Elizabeth, but I have a lot more material to cover regarding Samantha. So since I abandoned Sam last chapter, most of this one is in MWPP time. Just bear in mind that *** represents a normal time break, and *~*~* signifies a jump between time periods. Ah, yes, and I just thought I'd mention that whereas Elizabeth's story takes place all in her fourth year, the MWPP part only focuses on significant events that happened in the past. This chapter begins in Samantha's 6th year. That is all. @~~ Rose

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"The eyes are the windows to the soul"

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Chapter Four: In the Eyes . . .

*~*~*

Sirius Black was afraid. Not slightly worried, nor mildly frightened, but absolutely, completely _petrified_. 

Now Sirius Black was not the type of person one would expect to be afraid. In fact, as far as any outside observer, or even his best friends, could see, Sirius was the most reckless, daring, risk-taker one could find. He had valiantly defied all school rules with his innumerable pranks, he had boldly asked out practically every girl in school, and his eyes lit up at the mere mention of some new, dangerous escapade. 

But all of this just made him even more frightened. What would people think if they discovered what he was hiding? This fear, this silly little fear, could destroy his reputation! And it really was a silly fear. Some people fear spiders, some fear death, some fear the monster under their bed. Sirius' fear was nothing like these.

Sirius Black was afraid he would look into Samantha Satine's eyes and fall in love.

It was a fear that had haunted him ever since he had consoled her after the Sorting Ceremony their very first day at Hogwarts. The way she had looked at him, her teary eyes lighting up joyously, was an image he had never been able to clear from his head. 

But, oh, how he'd tried. It hadn't been so hard the first two years. He was younger then, and the thought of how James would tease him if he ever found out Sirius' feelings was strong enough to push Samantha out of his mind. But then the teenage years hit, and every time Sirius spotted Samantha in the halls, chattering away merrily with Lily, the image of those bright, blue eyes would dance before his mind. _How could someone have such bewitching eyes?!? _And now that he was in his sixth year, the fear of those eyes had become almost an obsession to him.

It wasn't that he liked her or anything, it was just . . . What _was _it exactly? There had been something there, that first time he looked at her, or rather, looked _into_ her, that had made a connection with him. He didn't love her, that was for certain, but he was afraid that he could, he _would_, if his eyes ever made contact with hers again. Real love, not the week-long flings he was used to, but real, true, unconditional love. And that scared him, too. Sirius Black was _not_ the commitment kind of guy.

So what to do? _It's a stupid fear,_ he would think to himself. _I mean, seriously, how can looking into someone's eyes make you fall in love? I don't care anything for her now, some silly blue eyes can't change that. WHY am I afraid of this?!? This is ridiculous!!! _But the fear wouldn't go away, and he couldn't tell anyone about it, especially not James. Other people would laugh, but James would be angry. For some reason or other, James hated Samantha. Something about how she was constantly making him look like a fool in front of Lily. But James hated Lily, too, didn't he? So why did he care?

These thoughts circled in Sirius' brain as he made his way to Charms. He was so occupied that he didn't notice where he was walking until he felt his body bump into something solid. He snapped out of his reverie to see Lily Evans standing an inch in front of him. "SIRIUS!" she cried, livid. "Just look what you did!" Sirius blinked, following her gesture to the floor. Lily's bag lay open at his feet and papers were scattered throughout the hall. Lily continued screaming (Sirius, as James' best friend, annoyed her almost as much as James himself), but Sirius found he had stopped listening. His heart froze as he noticed the girl with soft curly brown hair patiently gathering her friend's paper.

Without looking up, Samantha said calmly, "Lil, it would be a lot more useful if you were to help me pick up your things. Yelling at Sirius will accomplish nothing."

"I'm teaching him a lesson!" Lily protested.

"Do you really think he's listening to a word you're saying?"

"He'd better be! Or else I'll . . ."

Samantha interrupted. "Sirius, are you learning anything from Lily there?"

Sirius snapped out of a daze. "Huh?" Samantha just smiled at Lily, her point proven.

"Oh, fine!" Lily muttered grumpily, getting down on her knees to join her friend. "But, Sirius, you'd better help, too!"

Sirius shrugged and scanned the hall for any quills that might have rolled off. He found a roll of parchment near the Transfiguration room. "Wow," he gave a low whistle as he unrolled it – several feet of paper cascaded to the floor. "What's all this for?" he asked, slightly impressed.

Lily looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding, right?" He shook his head. "Sirius, that's my Charms project. You know – the one where we were given the origins and a few clues about a Charm and had to research all the aspects of it to figure out which Charm it actually is? The big project that accounts for half our grade this term that was assigned three weeks ago?"

"Oh," Sirius' face relaxed. "Yeah, I know. But what are you toting it around for?"

Lily just stared at him, exasperated. Samantha let out a fake sigh. "You want to break it to him or should I?" she asked Lily.

Lily was annoyed. How could Samantha be so relaxed about this? How could Sirius be so irresponsible? How could James Potter be so aggravatingly cute? (And wherever did _that_ thought come from?!?) She decided to vent her frustration on Sirius.

"Honestly, Black! The project is due today! As in next period! In five minutes! Half of your grade! Due RIGHT NOW! How could you forget that? I'll bet you haven't even started! And now you're going to fail, all your hopes of graduation gone right down the drain! I can't believe you! That Potter is rubbing off on you, isn't he? Destroying the few brains you started out with and ruining your hopes of ever having a good future!"

People were beginning to stare. Samantha was beginning to giggle.

Sirius backed away. "Calm down, Lily," he cried defensively. "I only have one sentence left to write. And what are you talking about – James rubbing off on me? That would be a _good_ thing, you know. No matter how much you deny it, he's a smart guy. I think the real problem here is that Samantha's rubbing off on _you_! Why is it that suddenly you're the melodramatic, emotional one, and Samantha's the sane one trying to calm you down?" 

Samantha wasn't exactly trying to calm down anyone. She was still bent over in laughter. But she was able to stop long enough to comment, "It's schoolwork, Sirius, you know Lil's always been super sensitive about that."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You have one sentence left? As in the most important sentence of the project?"

"Yeah, well I did all the hours of research, I just can't figure out what Charm it all adds up to. But I'll have time to write it in before class once you tell me what it is," Sirius squirmed uncomfortably, a look of hope gleaming in his eyes.

Samantha stepped in before Lily could explode. "It's the Prelacio Charm, just don't tell Professor Flitwick I told you. We weren't supposed to help each other on this project. And for heaven's sake, why would you ask Lily? You know how against jointly done homework she is!" 

Sirius had asked Lily because he was afraid to ask Samantha, but he didn't tell her that. Instead he muttered, "Prelacio Charm, gotcha. Sam, you're a lifesaver," and hurried away to scribble in his last sentence.

Lily waited until he had rounded the corner before turning to her friend. "'Jointly done homework?'" she asked wryly.

Samantha shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly cheating."

"Isn't it?"

"No, it's more like . . . helping . . ." Lily folded her arms across her chest and Samantha rushed on, "Oh, come on, Lil. He's done most of it. One sentence is nothing compared to yards of research."

"Sam, it's the _conclusion_. What he _gathered_ from all that research. Which, obviously, was nothing."

"What do you have against Sirius?"

"The question is: what do _you_ have _for_ him?" Lily eyed her friend accusingly.

Samantha placed a hand innocently over her heart. "Me? Have feelings for Sirius Black? You have got to be kidding! The boy drives me insane with all his incessant pranks on me! Not to mention how immature he can be!"

Lily shrugged. "James plays non-stop pranks on me, but I still have . . ." she paused and her eyes met Samantha's. Neither liking where this conversation was going, they abandoned it and hurried off to Charms.

***

Professor Flitwick eyed Samantha and Lily disapprovingly as they sidled into the classroom approximately thirty seconds after the bell. He was a new teacher and felt that the smallest things could threaten his authority. "Hurry and take out your term papers, ladies, I'm collecting them now. And be warned that next time you're late it will be five points from Gryffindor."

Samantha took her seat beside Lily, muttering, "It was only a few seconds!" James Potter snickered behind her, and she was tempted to turn around and slap him. But for some reason, she had the feeling Lily wouldn't like that . . .

Professor Flitwick made his way down the rows of seats, pausing at the last desk as he glanced over Sirius' work with a raised eyebrow. Sirius waited with baited breath. "My, it looks like you put a lot of effort into this Mr. Black. I can't wait to read your conclusion." He gave Sirius a nod of approval and walked back to his desk.

Sirius sighed in relief. "Thanks," he whispered to Samantha. She probably smiled back, but he made sure not to look at her long enough to find out. After all, it was too big a risk to be caught by those eyes. 

*~*~*

"Miss Satine! Miss Satine, are you awake?"

Elizabeth looked up dreamily to see Professor Flitwick's image floating in front of her face. She felt a sharp pain as Hermione's quill poked her in the back. "Um, oh! Professor! I'm so sorry! It's just . . . there's just something about this room. It's like I could almost sink back into it in eternal comfort, it's so thick with . . . something." Ron rolled his eyes for about the hundredth time that day. Where did this girl come from?

To his surprise, Flitwick smiled dreamily himself. "Your mother always used to say that, too. Sweet girl. Pushed the rules sometimes, but excellent in Charms. Excellent." Sarah? Push the rules? Elizabeth suppressed a laugh. Her mother would never break a rule. Charms _were_ her mother's strong point, though. _Hope it runs in the family_, she thought nervously. She tried to force herself to focus on Professor Flitwick's words. What _was_ it about this room? Why did she feel so comfortable here that if she were to close her eyes she would fall asleep?

Flitwick was summing up his beginning-of-the-year lecture. "And so that is we will be studying the Charms developed in Medieval Europe the first half of this year. Whereas the magic you study in other topics such as Transfiguration or Potions becomes more powerful as witches and wizards discover more about them over the years, the Charms of old were the strongest we will ever see because the Ancient Magic supporting them was stronger back then. Of course, Medieval Charms are far from the strongest, but they are still more advan . . . yes Miss Satine?"

Elizabeth was suddenly wide awake. Something about Flitwick's words had caught her attention. "What is the Ancient Magic, Professor?" she asked.

"To be brief, it's a term used to describe the magic that used to occur naturally in nature and kept the forces of good in power over evil. Charms, which unlike most magic, are purely good, used to be able to tap into the Magic. But we don't get into that here. If you wish to know more, you'll have to research on your own time." Flitwick was about to continue his lesson when he turned back to Elizabeth, an odd, almost mournful look in his eyes. "But rest assured, Miss Satine, you won't find what you're looking for there."

The bell rang, and Professor Flitwick threw up his arms hopelessly, watching as the students streamed out of his classroom before hearing the end of his speech.

Harry ran to catch up with Elizabeth and Hermione in the hall. "What was that all about?" he asked Elizabeth.

"I have no idea," she responded. "I was just curious about what he said." She shrugged.

Ron sneered airily as he walked past, "She and Hermione are probably already planning an extra-credit project to suck up to the teachers on their first day back to school!" His red head and jeering eyes disappeared into the crowd of students. Harry gave an exasperated sigh and raced off after his friend as Hermione turned to Elizabeth who looked so heartbroken she wanted to cry.

"What did I do to make him hate me so much?" Elizabeth asked tearfully.

Hermione put a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders. "Don't worry about Ron," she soothed. "It takes him awhile to get used to new people. I should know, he wasn't exactly friendly to me our first few weeks together either." She giggled at the memory. "And now we're the best of friends. Just give him some time, he'll come around."

Elizabeth squared her shoulders. "I hope you're right, but for now I've got bigger worries."

Hermione laughed. "What? Lunch?"

"No, silly. My first flying lesson! You will come with me, right?" Elizabeth's voice trembled slightly, but Hermione nodded vigorously. 

"I wouldn't miss it! I'll be right there beside you."

And they walked toward the grounds, side by side.

*~*~*

Samantha and Lily were strolling down the hall together when Professor Flitwick stepped out of his classroom, obstructing their path. He was looking at Samantha severely. "Miss Satine," he said sternly, "I need to see you in my room immediately." The girls exchanged questioning glances and Samantha shrugged and followed Flitwick inside. Lily positioned herself by the door to listen, but the Professor surprised her by closing it tightly behind him.

When Samantha finally re-emerged she brushed past Lily without a word. Lily raced after her friend, catching her by the arm. "Sammy, what's wrong?" Lily asked, worried at the pained light in her friend's eyes.

Samantha sniffed slightly. "You could have told me you didn't get the Prelacio Charm."

"What?" Lily stepped back at the resentment in Samantha's voice.

"When I told Sirius. You could have mentioned that you didn't have the same answer as me."

"Sam, I have no idea what you're talking about . . ."

"We all had different Charms! We weren't assigned the same project! So it was perfectly obvious where Sirius got his final answer from – I was the only person with the Prelacio Charm! Why didn't you mention that you had a different answer? You heard me tell Sirius this morning! Or did you think you were doing the right thing? Do you honestly think it's better for your best friend to get caught from her mistake than to fix it before she gets detention?" By this time Samantha was shaking violently and Lily had bent down to hold her tight.

"Honestly, it never occurred to me, Sam. I was too preoccupied with Sirius' irresponsibility to think about the answer that you gave him. And you know I would never let you get hurt just to teach you a lesson."

Samantha sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just, you know what?" she giggled weakly. "I've never had a detention before in my five years here. Astounding considering some of the curses we've pulled on certain boys . . ." She stood up and brushed off her robes. "Well, it was bound to happen eventually." Gathering her bags, she began walking determinedly back to Gryffindor Tower. Lily followed, shaking her head proudly at her friend's persistent bravery.

***

Sirius made his way to the Charms classroom muttering angrily to himself. It was almost 9 PM, the time scheduled for his detention. All the zillions of pranks he had managed to pull and get away with, and he got caught for copying two words on a paper? He wondered what kind of annoying task Flitwick would have him do. 

As he neared the classroom, he was surprised to see the light on. He had passed his professor in the hall a few minutes ago, and he'd said he'd be a little late. Who else could be here? He entered the classroom and stopped dead just inside the doorway.

Samantha Satine was seated in the desk nearest him, a mere two feet away. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and before he had time to turn away, Sirius felt himself be captured, as he stared, trapped, into those bright blue eyes . . .

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AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 3!

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Snowwolf: Don't be sorry – I love long reviews! Especially this one – thank you =) Will McGonagall & Elizabeth become close? Hmm . . . you're rather insightful . . . it all depends on if I continue with the story the way I originally planned. I think it's really sweet that you're so supportive of your sister (Lady Lanya Artemisan??). *Sigh* I've always wanted a sister. I have two cousins who call themselves my sisters, but it's not the same . . . (by the way, your poetry is beautiful ^_^)

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Lady Lanya Artemisan: Yes, Ron isn't exactly the nicest as of late, but you can't really blame him (okay, maybe you can a little), it's hard to have people come in and apparently "steal" your friends. But don't worry, he'll ease up eventually, probably sooner than later 'cuz his attitude is getting on my nerves . . . Make sure & tell me when you update – we soup lovers should stick together :) 

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Karma50: Thank you, *blushes*, you're so sweet! Good news: I didn't make this chapter like homework, I just abandoned all my other homework to do it! (j/k . . .)

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Ra-chan: Hmm . . . another insightful reviewer . . . just be careful what you say 'cuz you know a lot more than everyone else ;) Unlike you, though, there was no way I could write fanfiction while preparing for AP French. I tried, but gave up after every other sentence I wrote came out in French. I didn't think reviewers would like that ^^ Which reminds me: **Somebody please go review Ra-chan's "Building Memories"! You won't be disappointed!!!**

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Katya: *Ahem!* And where was the Duchess Katajena's review for Chapter 3? Have you abandoned me so soon, cherie?


	5. Lady Sam

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AN: This chapter is longer than the previous ones, but that's probably just because I am currently fanfiction deprived. I know ff.net is working again, but, unfortunately, my computer is not. So even though I really want to thank all of you for your wonderful, encouraging reviews from the last chapter, I can't get on to see what you wrote . . . *sigh* Look for thanks on my bio page, it'll be there if I ever get on. My mission for the next time my computer decides to be agreeable is to sign in & get this posted before it freezes . . . If you're reading this right now, I was successful. And since I put so much effort into finding a way to get this uploaded, don't you feel that the least you can do is review? ;)

Before you start reading I have two notes: 1) *~*~* signifies a jump between Harry's time & MWPP time (yes, I realize I've mentioned that again & again, but it's been awhile since I've updated . . .) and 2) I found a way to describe what the Prelacio Charm is. For anyone who was curious, you can thank Lady Lanya Artemisan for convincing me to include that ^_^

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Disclaimer: I can claim a lot in this chapter! *smiles* Elizabeth, Samantha & the rest of the Satine family are mine, as well as the Prelacio Charm, the Ancient Magic, and Intoned Charms. But that's a small amount in comparison to everything I borrowed from JK Rowling. So, as usual, I owe most of this to her . . .

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Chapter Five: Lady Sam

*~*~*

Elizabeth and Hermione were standing on the Hogwarts grounds after their first day of classes waiting for Madam Hooch to arrive for Elizabeth's first flying lesson. The lesson had been planned to take place during lunch, but Madam Hooch had been obligated to cancel it in order to escort several students to the hospital wing after a disastrous class with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years. Elizabeth wondered if Madam Hooch would be able to show up this time. _I hope not_, she thought nervously.

"She'll be here any minute, Elizabeth. You should go pick out a broom from that rack over there," Hermione was saying.

Elizabeth wasn't listening. Her eyes had wandered over to the Quidditch pitch where the Gryffindor team was gathered for their first practice. "Just a minute, Hermione," Elizabeth murmured, her eyes still locked in the opposite direction. She began picking her way toward the pitch, calling out, "Hey, Ron!"

The Quidditch team looked up at her in surprise. They were in the middle of discussing who should become the new captain, since Wood's departure the year before had left them captain-less and keeper-less. Ron, after a spectacular performance in try-outs, had become the new keeper. His eyes narrowed as he saw the brown-haired girl running toward him, her curls bouncing in the wind. It was his first ever Quidditch practice – she wasn't planning to spoil this like she had Potions class, was she?

Elizabeth stopped abruptly in front of the seven team members. She winked at Harry (who sighed internally in preparation for the upcoming battle) before turning to Ron. Taking a deep breath, she stared him hard in the face. Best to get it out in the open . . . "Ron, what's your problem with me?"

Ron was taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be so forward. "I . . . er . . ."

"Because you know I never meant to make you mad, right? I'm sorry if you're upset about your potion, but really, I had nothing to do with that. And if you're scared that I'm trying to steal Hermione from you . . ."

Ron suddenly found his voice. "'Steal' Hermione?!? That's exactly what I don't like about you! You come waltzing in here like some little princess, acting like Little Miss Perfect, thinking everyone should instantly love, worship, and adore you! You just assume you'll be provided with dozens of loyal friends who'll help you get everything you want! Well you're not having ME! And soon Hermione and Harry will realize what you _really are_ and they'll abandon you, too! You won't feel like too much of a princess then, now will you?" Ron had worked himself into such a frenzy saying this that he was practically seething by the end. Hermione, who had caught up to Elizabeth, stood gawking at him, as did the rest of the Quidditch team.

Elizabeth's face remained placid. "What am I really, Ron?"

"A Satine!"

"This is about my family?"

"Of course it is! I've heard about those Satine girls – winning everyone over only to betray them in the end! You're just like the rest of them! Everyone else may ignore it, but I know the truth about you!"

Elizabeth didn't know what he was talking about. She had never heard anything bad about her family, but she didn't feel like dragging out the argument. With a weary sigh she asked, "What do I have to do to prove to you I'm not like my family?"

Ron stopped ranting and stared at her, surprised. "What?"

"I don't know what it is that makes you hate my family so much, Ron, but whatever it may be, I'd prefer that you'd forget it and judge me as my own person. What do you want me to do to prove I'm different?" She repeated calmly.

"I want you to . . . er . . ." he glanced around, and as his eyes alighted on the broom rack, he grinned evilly. "I want you to fly."

"Ron!" Hermione cried, scolding. "She's never been on a broom before! It would be dangerous!"

Ron ignored her. Walking over to a box on the ground, he carefully opened it and released what appeared to be a golden donut-hole with wings. He turned around and glared Elizabeth levelly in the face. "I want you to fly. And I want you to catch the Snitch."

*~*~*

Sirius Black was staring into Samantha Satine's eyes, yet all he felt was amazement. Amazement that there had been no instant spark, no sign of any kind that he had suddenly fallen hopelessly, head-over-heels in love. He felt safe, comfortable. A little dazed that his fear of five years had turned out to be nothing, but calm nonetheless.

"Sirius?" The voice seemed to drift in from far away as Sirius slowly withdrew himself from those deep pools of blue. 

"Sirius!" His head snapped up and a vision of Samantha Satine – gentle, beautiful, a bit vexed – swam into view.

"You were smiling," she said matter-of-factly. He just stared at her blankly, so she tried again. "You were smiling. In _detention_." _Oh, so that's what this is about_, thought Sirius. He nodded. She continued, "You do realize this is my first detention, and it's all because I tried to help you, don't you?"

With a nonchalant grin, he shrugged, "So maybe you shouldn't be so nice."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "You're right. Whatever was I thinking? I apologize for attempting to rescue you, Mr. Black." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sirius' grin widened. _She looks cute when she's mad,_ he thought. Aloud he said, "Apology accepted, Lady Sam." She opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment Professor Flitwick walked in, carrying a box filled with parchment and quills. "Hullo, Professor!" cried Sirius cheerily.

"So we meet again after hours, Mr. Black," Flitwick responded as he set the box gently down on his desk. Then he turned and winked at Samantha. "Miss Satine, I do believe you're going to like what I've in store for you tonight."

Sirius scurried over to the box, face lit in anticipation. "You mean I won't have to mend your old socks this time, Professor?" 

Samantha smiled in spite of herself, but Flitwick seemed not to notice as he squeaked excitedly, "Hogwarts has decided to start a school paper!" Sirius and Samantha exchanged glances. _What did this have to do with their detention?_ "We were discussing it during the last faculty luncheon and Professor Dumbledore agreed it would be a good way for you students to express your ideas. We just need a couple of students to start it off," here he stopped and looked slyly at the two in front of him, who were beginning to comprehend what he was getting at. "You know – brainstorm ideas, topics for columns, how to choose a paper staff . . . So here you are – paper, parchment, heads just bursting with creative ideas – get to work! Write them down!"

*~*~*

"What?!? Ron, this is absolutely ridiculous! You can't really expect her to catch the Snitch when she's never flown before! And what does that even have to do with her not being like her family?!" Hermione cried despairingly. The extent of Ron's distaste for Elizabeth infuriated her.

"Satine girls are dependent on others – to love them, to cherish them, to catch them when they fall – they're petrified of flying – alone in the air with no one to come to the rescue," he replied coolly, as if this was obvious.

"That's insane, Ron! And where do you get off claiming to know so much about Elizabeth's family? And why should you care anyway? Can't you just accept the girl without asking her to break her neck for you?"

"Relax, Hermione. Ten galleons say she'll give up before she even mounts the broom. In fact, would you care to just give in now, Miss Satine?" Ron turned to realize he was speaking only to the rest of his teammates. Elizabeth was already dashing to the broom rack. The eight by-standers watched as she grabbed an old Cleansweep 7 and jumped on. After a moment's hesitation, she shot off into the air. "Er . . . cancel that bet . . ." Ron bit his lip, and a touch of concern showed in his face as he watched Elizabeth soar up, up, up . . .

Hermione whacked him soundly over the head. "She has no idea what she's doing! You can be such an idiot, Ron!"

The concern for her from the spectators on the ground was intense. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was suddenly light and carefree. She had felt a peculiar unease ever since the Sorting Hat had delved into her soul last night, as if it had unlocked some dark secret that was now free to trouble her. For the first time, she felt that weight lifted from her heart and mind as her feet left the ground. The higher she flew, the better she felt.

Quite contrary to Ron's ideas, Elizabeth adored the feeling of being alone and free. She had always felt somewhat separate from her parents and relatives – as if she harbored something they knew nothing about. She hated being a loner, and desperately tried to reach out to society whenever possible, as Ron had said, but flying – she felt her heart swell at the thought – flying somehow made being alone okay. Magical, safe, free. The old Muggle expression "walking on air" came to mind, and she realized she had finally found a way to feel that sensation – both emotionally and physically.

But Elizabeth's greatest amazement came from the fact that her mind, always swirling with turbulent thoughts, became calm and clear when in the air. So clear that worries and wonderings left her, and she was able to focus completely on the task before her: to catch the Snitch.

She was drifting slowly in and out of the clouds, completely unaware of the terrified cries and shrieks from below, when a speck of gold, glimmering just a few feet above of the ground, caught her eye. Not usually the athletic type, Elizabeth had to laugh as she felt her heart sing out, "I was born to do this!" and without a second's thought, felt herself lean forward instinctively, and turn into a sharp dive. 

__

This is better than a roller coaster! She thought, overcome with exhilaration. But unlike a roller coaster, she couldn't depend on the conductor to control the ride for her. As she neared the ground, her heart stopped racing with excitement and began pounding in fear. It didn't even comfort her when she felt the warmth of the golden Snitch settle successfully in her hand. How was she supposed to stop? How would she ever manage to pull out of such a steep dive when she had no time left?

Elizabeth heard sharp, panicked screams and her eyes took in the vision of Hermione and the Quidditch teams racing toward her, preparing to do whatever they could to break her fall. It was going to be awful to crash headfirst into the ground, but it would be worse to hurt to her friends in the process. Thoughts, dread, terror, alarm, all swirled in her mind, too fast to catch. But one fact became clear the second before she hit: _no one else would get hurt because of her foolishness._

"STOP!!!" she screamed to them with all the volume she could muster. In a split second, all eight figures rushing toward her froze in place. So did her broom. Her head a mere two inches above the ground, Elizabeth slid off the broom, gently somersaulting into the grass. She stood up shakily and glared suspiciously (albeit gratefully) at the Cleansweep 7. It dropped harmlessly to the ground, triggering a general wave of relief among everyone standing there.

Elizabeth was instantly swept up into tight hugs and congratulatory pats on the back as Hermione sobbed her relief and the Quidditch team expressed their amazement. She pulled away from them and walked placidly up to Ron, a grin playing at her lips. "Mr. Weasley, I believe this is what you wanted," she said, handing him the tiny Snitch. Ron accepted it silently as he stood still rooted to the ground, his face completely white. Elizabeth noticed this and commented, "You're trembling, Ron." The guilt in his eyes doubled at her use of his first name. She smiled, adding, "You were worried about me. Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Once he'd nodded meekly, Elizabeth practically lit up, ecstatic. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have some research to do!" She whirled around, making her way back to the school.

Hermione ran to catch up with her. "Elizabeth!" she cried out. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find out about what Ron was saying about my family."

"Can't you just ask him?"

"I have this feeling that there's more to it than he knows. More to it than anyone knows . . ."

"Then how are _you_ going to discover it?"

"I'm not sure yet – but I think I know where to start." 

And with that, she dashed off, leaving Hermione bewildered. "Even _I_ couldn't go do extra research after nearly killing myself on an incredibly talented first broomstick flight. That girl never ceases to amaze me . . ."

*~*~*

One hour and several disgruntled sighs later, Sirius and Samantha had completed everything necessary to start off a Hogwarts school paper. They had lists of necessary positions, possible columns, questions for interviewing students who wished to be part of the paper staff, a sign up sheet . . . 

Samantha was pleased at their work. She had accomplished much more than expected. _They_ had accomplished much more. She'd never thought working with Sirius could be so productive. "That was fun, don't you think?" she asked him pleasantly. She could hear his response in her head, _"Of course it was fun. You were working with me."_ She smiled. They'd never been close, but years of being around Sirius Black had taught her what to expect from him.

Sirius, however, was exhausted by his efforts. He slowly raised his head up out of his arms to look at her, his eyes carefully examining her glowing face. _Are you always this bubbly?_ He thought. But he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with her. Raising his eyebrows, he responded, "Fun?! That was worse detention I've ever had!"

Samantha was offended. Backing off, she muttered, "Oh, because you don't have your buddy Potter by your side for once? Am I really that awful to work with?"

He let his head drop back into his arms. _Fickle girl,_ he thought, exasperated, _one minute she's shining like the sun, and the next she's ready to snap my head off. She's got more energy that I do . . ._ Sitting up, he gave her his most apologetic look and mock bowed. "I've got nothing against you, Lady Sam," he said graciously, "I've just never actually had to _think_ before in detention. I usually just have to _do_, you see . . ."

She just looked at him with pursed lips. He gave a long sigh.

"Ah," announced Professor Flitwick, hearing Sirius as he waltzed back into the room. "Mr. Black is not happy to see me?"

"What? Oh, no, Professor. It's just her royal highness here. She seems to enjoy twisting my words . . ."

"It might help if you'd call be me by my real name," Samantha grumbled.

"You don't like Lady Sam? I find it quite suiting," he replied, placing a hand innocently over his heart.

Flitwick interrupted them. "Well in any case Mr. Black, I would be sighing to see me if I were you, too."

"Why? What now?"  
"I have an assignment for you two to take back to your dorms with you."

Sirius gasped. "Homework?! From detention?!?"

"That's right," Flitwick said with a nod. "I'd like each of you to write an article for the first issue of the paper. You've done such a wonderful job brainstorming here that I'm sure you're up to it. You may begin now, if you please. You still have ten minutes."

Sirius was incredulous. He spent his remaining time gaping at the wall, completely stunned. 

Samantha, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was going to write about. All she needed now was a penname . . . She glanced at Sirius, head clutched dramatically in his hands, and silently thanked him. "_The Curse of Intoned Charms_," she wrote. "_By Lady Sam_."

*~*~*

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation. Three long hours she had spent in the library, and still she could not find what she was looking for. _Of course_, she thought, slightly annoyed, _it would help if I _knew_ exactly what I am looking for. _Her first plan had been to research the Ancient Magic, as Professor Flitwick's comments gave her reason to suspect she could uncover some secret there. But as he had warned her, she hadn't found what she was looking for in her investigations under that topic. _But what else to search for? What was she trying to find, anyway? Had she been out of her mind when she'd decided to come to the library?_

She wandered aimlessly down the long aisles of books, brushing over the tops of dusty tomes. Her hand rested on one particular book, an old binder, to be exact, and her eyes alighted on the faded lettering on the binding – _Selected Issues of the Hogwarts Observer_. A flutter of interest caused her to carefully remove the binder from its shelf (it was quite heavy), and carry it to a table in a remote corner. She began paging through it curiously, stopping suddenly at an article, which, for some unknown reason, seemed to tug at her heart. Her eyelids were already drooping from hours of hopeless research (on top of the fact that it was rather late), but Elizabeth soon forgot her fatigue as she began to read:

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The Curse of Intoned Charms

By Lady Sam

I recently completed a major project for my Charms class. It certainly wasn't the most pleasant project. For one, it resulted in my being forced to write this article (not that I'm upset about doing so, Professor Flitwick, but it would have been nice to have had a choice.) But more importantly, it brought to light certain frustrating flaws in our Charms curriculum.

My project was on the Prelacio Charm. Most of you have probably never heard of it, which in itself is a major indicator that there is something wrong with our classes. The Prelacio Charm, a very powerful enchantment under the category of Intoned Charms, was used in the ancient wizarding world as a form of precognition. If performed in the right environment, by a witch or wizard with the ability to tap into the Ancient Magic, this astoundingly useful charm could give its performer a view of the short-term consequences of their decisions. Say, for example, that you decide to help out a friend by giving him an answer to his homework. Performing this little spell immediately before doing so will show you whether or not this friend will get caught for copying, and whether or not you will suddenly find yourself in detention for trying to rescue him from a poor mark.

In researching this Charm, I continually found myself distressed. Distressed that no one had ever taught me how to perform something so interesting, but moreover distressed that I had to do so much extra research just in order to understand this enchantment. What _is_ an Intoned Charm exactly? And the Ancient Magic? And why is the Prelacio Charm no longer performed? I searched for the answers to these questions, but did you know that our library is surprisingly deficient in books on these topics? Nevertheless, persistent as I am, I finally found what I was looking for, and would like to share what little I have space for in this article.

Elizabeth was interrupted from reading by the librarian's sharp voice calling from her desk on the opposite wall. "Young lady, have you almost finished? I'll be closing up the library within the next five minutes." Elizabeth's heart was pounding so excitedly that she barely acknowledged the librarian. She was certain this was what she had been searching for. The Ancient Magic, Professor Flitwick, and all the secrecy he had maintained about the topic were all right there in the article before her. On an impulse which directly defied her own common sense, Elizabeth checked to make sure no one was watching, cautiously removed the article from the binder, folded it twice, and slipped it into her pocket. 

With the thrilling sensation of one on the brink of some magnificent discovery, she scurried off to Gryffindor Tower.

*~*~*

It was late that night as Samantha sat bent over her work at a table in the cozy Gryffindor common room when Sirius Black's voice snapped her attention from the article Flitwick had assigned her to write. "Samantha?" his voice was soft, and she could just barely make out his dashing figure from the dying embers of the fire. "It's late, you should get some sleep." 

"I know. I'm just finishing up my article," she replied, suppressing a yawn.

He walked over to the table and, standing his beside her with his arm rested on the back of her chair, skimmed over the parchment in front of her. His smile was just visible in the room's dim light. "Taking revenge on Flitwick for giving detention to the infamous Samantha Satine?" he asked, amused.

She grinned. "Well, yeah, that was my original intention, but I really do think this is a topic that needs addressing."

He sighed, wondering where she got her determined nature. "Well, I'm sure it can wait to be addressed long enough for you to get some rest. You've already been working all night."

"I know, but if I leave this to finish tomorrow night, I won't be able to help you write yours." She was surprised to suddenly feel his arms around her in a quick, gentle hug.

"You're too sweet sometimes, you know?" he murmured, turning back up the staircase to the boys' dormitories.

Samantha sat still for awhile, a peculiar lightness filling her heart, before turning back to her writing with renewed vigor. Was detention supposed to turn out this sweetly?

*~*~*

Elizabeth found herself alone in the common room when she returned to Gryffindor Tower. Apparently everyone else had been completely exhausted by their first day back to school. She curled up beside the fire and pulled the article out of her pocket.

From what I can gather, an Intoned Charm is a powerful enchantment that is performed without the use of a wand. It begins as a regular charm that is then, in a sense, impressed (or intoned) into a witch or wizard's abilities, so that they can somehow use the charm by saying a simple word, or in more advanced cases, with just a thought or a wave of the hand. This sounds extremely useful to me, so why are we students never taught how to "intone" our spells? The answer lies within the "Ancient Magic," the best definition for which I could find being, "magic that lives within our very earth, that regulates the powers of good over the powers of evil, and can be tapped into by certain masters of the magic and used to develop powers surpassing those of the ordinary witch or wizard" (_Magic of Old_, page 4).

Apparently, an Intoned Charm can only be performed with the help of the Ancient Magic, and for some unfortunate reason that I've yet to discover, the Ancient Magic has dwindled rapidly ever since the 6th century AD, as have the number of witches and wizards with the ability to tap into its extraordinary power.

But why is this reason to keep such information from us students? If these "Masters of the Old Magic" are so rare, wouldn't it seem more important than ever to try to teach students Intoned Charms to see if any have the abilities? Especially in these dark times – are we not in desperate need of such strong good magic to combat the rising evil in our world? Not to mention how handy spells like the Prelacio Charm would be. If I could have performed that, I would be sleeping right now rather than writing this. Are the teachers afraid of us becoming too powerful? Or do they just believe none of us capable of much? Whatever the reason, I find the lack of education on this topic insulting and unjust. 

But as there is nothing I can do about it at the moment, I find that my best option would be to take the advice of a friend and get some sleep. If anyone is interested in pursuing this topic, please contact the paper staff. Until then, I wish you all a good night and sweet dreams!

Best regards, Lady Sam.

Upon finishing the article, Elizabeth quietly made her way upstairs and into her warm, comfortable bed. It wasn't long before she had slipped into a deep, blissful sleep – the most restful night she would find at Hogwarts for a long time.

****

AN: Hey everybody! I'm back! I know, I know, it's been awhile, and if for some reason you've been checking my bio page, you'd know I've been listing plenty of excuses . . . Sure, those all played a part, but to tell you the truth, the real problem is that when I started this I had a detailed beginning and ending all planned out in my head, but a very vague middle (I've never been the best at pre-planning . . .). And then this idea popped into my head, which I decided to go with, but which scared me a little since I'd never planned to write it at all. But that's the way with fanfiction, isn't it? You just write as you go along ^_^ Anyway, I hope you didn't think this chapter was too boring. My writing tends to be influenced by whatever I'm reading at the moment, and I happen to be reading my summer homework book right now . . . But enough of that :) Like Samantha, I'd like to wish you all good night and sweet dreams (no matter what time of day it is). _Alors, bonne nuit et faites de beaux rêves!_ (Katya, do not dare to correct my grammar.) Thanks for reading (and reviewing?), WhetherRose.


	6. An Investigation Into Intoned Charms

**Author's Note:**  I have been meaning to address the topic of Mary Sues for a while now, but always forget to before I post a chapter.  But actually, this is the perfect chapter to bring it up.  First of all, I am aware that Elizabeth has many Mary Sue characteristics.  First off, she's your classic American transfer student.  I was originally going to make her British, like the rest of her family, but after living in Belgium for 3 years and attending an international school, I have come to despise stereotypes, and I'm afraid that if I make my main character any other nationality than the one I'm most familiar with, I'll end up accidentally stereotyping some other group, something I would hate to do even more than creating a Mary Sue.  And yes, Elizabeth does have special powers, which start to become evident in this chapter.  That, however, is the fault of a wild, late-night imagination.  I made up this story during an extremely difficult year for me, during which I would imagine a story before falling asleep and continue it every night until it reached an end in order to keep my mind off crying.  Pathetic, yes, but it worked.  This story came about while I was waiting for the 4th Harry Potter book to come out.  Although she is rather powerful, Elizabeth is **not** perfect.  She has several very big flaws that will eventually lead to major suffering (not in this fic, though . . .)  Oh, and there is absolutely **no** possibility of me developing a romance between Elizabeth and any existing Harry Potter character.  Harry is Ginny's, Ron is Hermione's, and that's that.  Samantha is the only one who finds romance in this fic, but there's no need to worry about her being Mary-Sueish – she's British, she not all-powerful, and she never finds her happy-ever-after.  But I'm going to stop rambling now.  I'm detaining you from the chapter, and I'm on the verge of giving something important away . . .

**Warning:** I've been away from home for a month and have fallen into the habit of adding short installments to this chapter whenever I have time.  In doing so, I somehow made this chapter much longer than intended.  I want to apologize ahead of time for any boring parts and especially for taking up more of your time than usual ^_^

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling, anything you don't recognize from the books is most likely mine.

Chapter Six: An Investigation Into Intoned Charms 

A slight rustle awoke Elizabeth the next morning.  Drowsily, she rolled over – and opened her eyes to find her face buried in a bouquet of sweet wild flowers.  "Wha-what?" she muttered, sitting up and yawning.  It was then that she noticed the many faces gathered around her bed.  Her eyes focused first on the figures in the background – Hermione, Harry, the Weasley twins – and then on the person right before her.  "R-Ron?" 

Ron gazed at her, head slightly bent, while she tried to determine whether or not this was a dream.  "Er . . ." he began, and Elizabeth decided she was awake.  People were usually more articulate in her dreams.  "I . . . er . . ."  He glanced nervously at his friends behind him and colored slightly.  "I'm sorry they all followed along," he mumbled.  "They just aren't used to seeing me, er . . . apologize . . ."  Elizabeth perked up.  _Apologize?_  "I brought you these flowers," he was continuing, "and I wanted to tell you I know I haven't really been the nicest person to you lately . . ." 

"Understatement of the year," George interjected.  

Ron glared at him and continued.  "And, well, I just wanted to say I'm sorry.  I can get a bit carried away sometimes.  I don't mean to, I just do.  Also, I wanted to invite you to our Quidditch practice this afternoon.  I sort of ruined your flying lesson yesterday, so I thought you might like to learn with us.  Not that you really need help, but if you'd like, we'd be glad to have you . . ." he trailed off, looking slightly silly. 

Before he realized what was happening, Elizabeth had flung her arms around his shoulders warmly.  "That was so sweet I don't even mind that you woke me up early to tell me."  Releasing him, she buried her face in the flowers.  

Ron remained standing there, blushing furiously, while Fred gave Elizabeth an incredulous look.  "Woke you up early?" he laughed.  "We waited 'til the last possible minute so as not to bother you.  Classes start in ten minutes.  Oi!  Which reminds me, George!  We have Astronomy first this morning!  We'd better get going or we'll never get to the Tower on time!"  The twins rushed off as Elizabeth collapsed back against her pillow.

Harry and Ron stared at her.  "Aren't you going to get up?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, yeah . . . give me a minute . . ." She closed her eyes and pulled the covers up tightly.  Ron and Harry glanced worriedly at Hermione.

"Well, honestly," Hermione clucked.  "She's not going to get up and get dressed with you two in here.  Now go!  Off to Transfiguration with you!"  She shooed them out the door and closed it after their retreating backs. 

Elizabeth jumped out of bed.  "Thanks, Hermione."

"You sure you'll make it to class on time?"

Elizabeth laughed.  "Of course!  I have twice the time I usually save to get ready in the morning.  Hmm . . . I might even have time to conjure up some breakfast.  Remind me to thank Ron again."  

Hermione shook her head in disbelief.  "Alright.  I'll see you in class then?"

"Yep.  See you in five minutes."

*~*~*

"Sam!  Samantha!  Wake up!  Class starts in five minutes!"  

"Uhm . . . hmm . . ."

"Samantha!" 

As someone began shaking her shoulders she snapped, "What?" then opened her eyes.  "Oh!"  In her astonishment she forgot all exhaustion.  "Sirius?"

"You have to wake up!  McGonagall will have your head if we're late for class!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Waking you up!"

"Does Lily know you're here?  I'm sure she'd disapprove of it . . ."

"Lily is already seated in her Transfiguration seat like the good little girl you used to be before . . ."

"Before . . ?"

Sirius gave an exasperated sigh.  "Just get out of bed, will you?"

Samantha threw herself despairingly over her pillow.  "I'll never make it in time!"

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.  "Just pull some of those incredible charms you do.  You know – to put up your hair, get dressed . . . Transfiguration's just down the hall, we can still make it."

"You go on.  I can handle being late."  
                He smirked.  "I very much doubt that.  You're not the type who gets in trouble often, and you've already had one detention this week.  Besides, I'm not leaving without you.  So hurry up, or you'll make us both late."

Staring at him, amazed, she shrugged and popped out of bed and into the bathroom.  Within thirty seconds she was back out, dressed and ready to go, and was soon flying through the halls on Sirius' arm.  They arrived in Transfiguration, breathless and laughing, just as the bell rang.  Lily raised her eyebrows as Samantha disentangled her arm from Sirius' and sat down beside her friend.  "Something happen last night that I should know about?" Lily whispered to her.

Samantha sighed.  "No.  Just stayed up too late writing my detention homework for Flitwick and couldn't wake up this morning."  
                "_Detention homework_?"  

But just then McGonagall began her lesson, and the two girls were forced to leave off talking.

***

"He's up to something," Lily announced later at lunch when Samantha told her how Sirius had awoken her that morning.

"Excuse me?"

"Why would he risk further trouble with McGonagall without a reason?  Goodness knows he's had enough with her already . . . No, he wants something from you."

"Excuse me?"  Samantha repeated, unable to grasp what her friend was telling her.

"Think about it, Sam," Lily replied logically.  "You've already proven you'll risk great trouble to help him.  He figures if he's nice to you for awhile and wins you over he'll have eternal help on his homework."

"He felt guilty!" protested Samantha.  "It was his fault I was up so late and he felt responsible!  You're letting your hatred for him and James go too far, Lily."  

Lily merely pursed her lips and shook her head.  "Just warning you, Sam.  Potter and Black aren't the kind of guys who just help people like you and I out of the goodness of their hearts.  I don't want you to get caught up in a mess you can't escape from."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, I just worry that he'll have a bad influence over you."

Samantha laughed.  "Lil!  He's barely a friend!  He can have no influence over me!  Besides, your influence has been so good that I doubt even the strongest evil could corrupt me!"  

Lily smiled at her friend and turned her focus to her meal.  She would drop the topic for now, but she would be sure to keep her eye on Black.

*~*~*

McGonagall's eyes flashed as Elizabeth sailed into class just as the bell rang.  "Cutting it a little close, Miss Satine," she commented through pursed lips.

Elizabeth paused on her way to her seat, a question entering her mind suddenly.  She turned slowly and asked, "Professor – how did my Aunt Samantha die?"  This was only her second class with McGonagall and they weren't exactly close yet, but Elizabeth felt she could trust the Professor.  Besides, she was obviously friends with Sarah, and made it clear she knew about Samantha, when very few people did.  Including Elizabeth.

McGonagall had blanched.  "Sarah never told you about your – about Samantha?"

"No."  Elizabeth felt a little uncomfortable at the appearance of tears in her teacher's eyes.

"Well," replied McGonagall, quickly regaining her composure, "That's something you'll have to talk to her about."  Her expression softened.  "But if you ever need any other kind of help, know I'm always here for you."  And she left Elizabeth to sit down as she started her lesson.

Elizabeth sat through class patiently tapping her fingers on the desk, ignoring McGonagall and fully absorbed in her own thoughts.  Obviously her question had ruffled McGonagall a little, because she left Elizabeth alone during class.

Afterwards, Elizabeth approached her teacher.  "Professor?" she asked.  "I was wondering if you could help me with some research I'm doing?"

McGonagall looked up from the papers she was shuffling through.  "Of course.  What are you looking for?"

"I need a book on Intoned Charms."

McGonagall gave Elizabeth a hard look.  "Why?"

"Just interested, that's all."

The Professor looked like she didn't believe her.  "We don't carry books like that in Hogwarts anymore."

Elizabeth was shocked.  "What?!?  Why not?!"

"Power seekers," she muttered, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes, "always lead to evil."

"But Intoned Charms can only be used for good," the girl replied, although she didn't really understand her teacher's meaning.

"They can't be used at all anymore.  Not enough Ancient Magic.  People will waste away trying to learn that magic all so they can be powerful.  It's not worth it, Miss Satine."

Elizabeth had the sudden desire to quit the room, like a child running away to avoid a lecture.  "I was just curious," she muttered, turning to leave.  She didn't see McGonagall reach an agitated hand to wipe away the tears suddenly flooding her eyes.

***

"Hey Satine!  You gonna fly or not?  We didn't invite you to our practice so you could read!"  

                Elizabeth looked up from the binder she had checked out of the library – _Selected Issues of the Hogwarts Observer – and grinned at Fred.  "I'm coming.  Hold on."  She finished up the article she was reading (just one day had made her an avid fan of Lady Sam) and jumped down from the bleachers.  _

                "Need a broom, Liz?"

                "Nope.  Got my Cleansweep 7 here.  And don't call me Liz."

                Fred gawked at her.  "Cleansweep 7?  How're going to fly well on that old thing?"

                "Madame Hooch let me borrow it.  I did a few repairs."  Fred continued staring.  "You know – couple of improvement charms.  I like that broom, it saved my life yesterday."

                "It almost killed you."

                "_That, my dear, was your brother's doing." _

                Fred shook his head, a smile on his face.  "You're not going to let him forget that, are you?"

                "I wouldn't mind waking up to a bouquet of flowers every once in awhile," she replied coyly, but inside she knew she could never hold a grudge against Ron.  In fact, she was extremely grateful to him for having introduced her to flying and a freedom she might not have discovered otherwise.  

Her gaze wandered over to where Angelina was releasing the Golden Snitch from its box.  "C'mon Harry!  You need the practice!" she cried.  Harry grudgingly mounted his Firebolt, but Elizabeth was faster.  Grabbing her Cleansweep, she swept into the air without a second thought.  

Harry caught sight of her and grinned.   "What do you think you're doing?" he called teasingly.  

"Challenging the best Seeker at Hogwarts that I can catch that Snitch before him!"  She gave him a mock competitive glare, and both burst out laughing.  But neither relented.  Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, who were tossing the Quaffle back and forth at the far end of the pitch, stopped to watch, amused, as Elizabeth and Harry darted around the field almost too fast to catch sight of.  Trailing each other, circling back around, leaping into steep dives to throw the other off, all the time laughing hard, but concentrating on the Snitch even harder.

It took fifteen minutes before Harry finally closed his hand around the tiny golden ball and the two 4th years collapsed on the pitch, clutching their stomachs and gasping for breath.  Each had come close to capturing the elusive orb several times, but had been foiled as the other had come sailing in and sight of the Snitch had been lost in a moment of confusion and panic of collision.  

Elizabeth and Harry still lay on their backs on the grass, too exhausted to move, but their laughter had settled and their ragged breathing had returned to normal.  "That," Harry commented, slightly amazed, "was the most challenging flight I've had in a long time.  That was only your second time on a broom?  You almost beat me."

Elizabeth smiled back appreciatively.  "Nah . . . it may have seemed that way, but I was really just flying my heart out.  I can swoop around, but actually catching that Snitch is pretty hard."  She paused and both lay in silence for a few minutes, watching the three Chasers high above them shoot the Quaffle mercilessly at Ron, who was desperately trying to defend his goalposts.  He was doing surprisingly well, considering that Fred and George were aiming both Bludgers at him at the same time.  Eventually Elizabeth murmured, "But I'll get you next time."  Harry smirked and Elizabeth laughed at her over-confidence.  Then they jumped up simultaneously and ran to join the others.

***

Elizabeth failed to beat Harry the next time and the time after that, but a week later she won her first victory over him, grabbing the Snitch from right under his nose.  And as she pointed out, "If I had a Firebolt, I probably would have caught it before you long ago."  But the competition was all in good fun, and soon became a routine part of every Quidditch practice the Gryffindor team held.  The entire team was pleased with Elizabeth.  As her flying skills improved, so did Harry's.  Of course, they would never allow her on the field until the end of practice.  After flying against each other, both teenagers would be so exhausted neither was good for any more training.  And even if they had the energy, they wouldn't be in the frame of mind for serious improvement.  

Elizabeth grew to love Quidditch practice, because not only did it mean the wonderful sensation of flying, but it always promised at least half an hour of non-stop laughter and fun – the perfect break from a stressful school schedule packed full of extra classes to make up for what she'd missed the past year.  While Quidditch practice continued to be exhausting to the seven team members who had strategies to work out and games to prepare for, Elizabeth compared it to the recesses she'd so much enjoyed in elementary school back in Connecticut.  Her only other free time was absorbed in a more daunting task – researching Intoned Charms.

Elizabeth had to admit that it was a serious fault that when someone told her to forget something, she took it in her mind to find out as much about it as possible.  But as she took up her investigation into Intoned Charms, she was soon doing it not out of spite for Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, who seemed bent on making her forget the Ancient Magic, but rather out of personal interest.  And a burning desire to prove that the Ancient Magic was not extinct.

In a way, it was also a form of procrastination.  Although Elizabeth was nearly caught up in all her other classes, and with Hermione's help was getting top marks, it was obvious her true talent was in Charms.  Every evening after a long day of lessons, she had set aside an extra two hours to catch up on the few months of work she was still behind on.  But as with many teenagers, Elizabeth was an avid fan of productive procrastination.  No other class could capture her interest like Charms could.  So instead of learning how to transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion or how to brew the perfect shrinking potion, Elizabeth had taken up a study of advanced charms.  She wasn't working on exactly what she was supposed to be doing, but it was still work.  In her mind that justified it.  

                So Elizabeth, who had already been far ahead in Charms from her mother's summer lessons (Sarah's talent and interest were in the same area), was determined she could master an Intoned Charm.  Just one, that's all she wanted to do to be satisfied.  She had the perfect one in mind, too: the Levitation Charm, so simple she was sure she could intone it.  Now all she needed was a book to teach her how . . .

***

Her breakthrough came one day near the end of the first month of school.

"Elizabeth?  Elizabeth, are you coming?"  A timid knocking sounded off the door of the 4th year Gryffindor girls' dormitory, and Neville Longbottom's voice drifted in through the crack at the bottom.  "Hermione and I have the cauldron set up in the courtyard and almost all the ingredients assembled.  We just need some longroot and we can begin."  

"Longroot?  Isn't that a common healing root?" the girl called back.

"Yes, a little _too common.  Professor Sprout just used up the last batch to make some cough syrup.  We're trying to find some growing in the gardens," replied Neville, the pride of his knowledge in Herbology evident._

"Yeah, actually, I think I might have some.  I'll go check.  Tell Hermione I'll be right down, 'kay?"

"Okay."

As Neville's echoing steps receded down the hall, Elizabeth began rummaging in the bottom of her trunk – the part Sarah had packed.  "I'm sure mom put some in here somewhere," she muttered.  "She's always so worried I'll get hurt . . ."  She reached blindly down beneath the piles of clothes until her hand closed tightly around a soft velvet bag.  She pulled it up and curiously peeked inside.  No longroot, just some old books.  She tossed the bag aside and kept digging.

"Aha!"  She cried triumphantly a few seconds later as she held a handful of the plant in her hands.  Standing up to join Neville and Hermione for her weekly Potions lesson, her eyes swept over the titles of the books she had just strewn carelessly on the floor.  _Quidditch Through the Ages, __New Age Transfiguration, __The History Behind Potion Making, and – Elizabeth's heart stopped as she saw it – __Intoned Charms: Expression of the Ancient Magic._

The herbs in her grasp tumbled to the floor, forgotten, as Elizabeth bent down in a daze and her hands closed around the book.   It was a pale cream with gold lettering scrolled across the top.  The corners were bent and the binding was tearing lose, but it still looked well taken care of, as if someone had treasured it.  Sitting down slowly on her four-poster bed, Elizabeth delicately handled the old book.  She opened it and let out a small gasp at the name scrawled in the corner of the inside cover in neat black ink.  The handwriting swirled in a beautiful script, and Elizabeth traced over the flourishing pair of capital S's in the name.  _Samantha Satine_.

Fingers trembling, she opened the book and scrolled down the table contents.  _Introduction: The Ancient Magic, Chapter One: The History of Intoned Charms, __Chapter Two: How to Intone a Spell.  She stopped, quickly turning to the second chapter, where the directions to successfully complete your first Intoned Charm were clearly lain out, step by step.  Scanning the page, several terms Elizabeth had never heard of before popped out at her, but in the margins, in that same elegant script handwriting, were notes explaining what was written, with stars next to useful tips.  It looked as if Samantha had been obsessed with learning Intoned Charms, too.  __But what  happened to her?   Elizabeth paused, frightened, for the first time wondering whether or not she should heed her professors' words and give up this insane search.  But how could she now that she'd discovered this?_

Just then there was a knock at the door.  Elizabeth jumped.  "Elizabeth?  Everything all right?  We've been waiting for you.  Neville said you had some Longroot and . . ."

Elizabeth ran to the door, cutting Hermione off.  "Yep!  Just found it!  Come on – we'd better get started with this Potions lesson!"  Hermione stared, bewildered, as Elizabeth grabbed her hand almost in a fervor and the two took off running out of Gryffindor tower and down to the Hogwarts grounds.

The cream-colored book lay open where Elizabeth had shoved it under her pillow.

***

It was 3 AM in the Gryffindor common room.  Embers of a dead fire glowed softly in the grate and it was silent.  The room was empty but for one lone figure curled cross-legged on the couch, staring determinately down at the book in her lap, fists clenched tightly at her sides.  Setting the book aside, she closed her eyes and held her hands out in front of her, her mind probing the empty space around her.  Nothing.  She nearly screamed in frustration.  Picking up the book once more, she scanned over the steps to make sure she'd missed nothing.  _1) Choose a relatively simple Charm to begin, 2) Perform it several times with a wand, focusing on the patterns the magic makes, 3) Once you've felt the spell work, put away the wand and relive the sensation in your mind – this step is particularly important; if you cannot sense magic without a wand, your senses are not in tune with the Ancient Magic, 4) Cast the charm by commanding the air around you to form the patterns of your Charm.  _

"Command the air?" Elizabeth repeated skeptically.  "What's that supposed to mean?"  It was her fourth night in a row without much sleep.  One step a night had been her plan, and she had thus far succeeded.  Over the past few days, her senses had become amazingly attuned to the way magic flows through the atmosphere, shifting to form a spell, and had begun to understand why in the old days nature possessed the strongest magic of all.  But the final step continued to elude her.  No matter how hard she tried, she could not perform a charm without a wand.  She turned back to reading in attempt to calm herself.  She was becomingly increasingly frightened of her own obsessive determination to conquer this impossible task, and yet she could not sleep until it was done.

_The first time performing any particular charm without a wand is both physically and mentally draining, using much of one's power.  However, once a witch or wizard has successfully intoned the charm, each subsequent attempt will become increasingly easier, until simply reciting the charm, or thinking of it with a wave of a hand, is sufficient to perform it._

"A wave of the hand," Elizabeth murmured, her eyes drooping drowsily.  "A simple wave of the hand."  Late nights and hard work had taken a toll on her body, and now, in spite of her resolve, she found herself drifting into an uneasy sleep.

In her dream, the common room appeared no different from the one she had fallen asleep in.  The same stars twinkled in the dark sky through the windows, the same embers still glowed among ashes in the fireplace, the same silence – peaceful, yet somehow tense, expectant – reigned over the room.  But in this dream version, the girl on the couch was not alone.  And she was not Elizabeth, although she could have very easily passed as an older version of her.  

The girl was sound asleep, her head resting on the shoulder of the boy sitting beside her, her hair spilling over his chest.  He looked at her somewhat awkwardly before extracting his arm from behind her back and entwining it gently around the girl's shoulders, hugging her closer.  Glancing around the room as if to make sure no one else was there, he whispered, "Everything's going to be alright.  I'm going to carry you up to your bed and when you wake up tomorrow morning, you'll have forgotten any of this ever happened and will be as cheerful as ever.  You're okay now."  The girl, of course, made no reply.  The boy stood up and lifted her with great care.  Up the stairs to the dormitory and they were gone.

*~*~*

"Ha!  Beat you again!" Sirius cried triumphantly as he won his third straight game of wizard's chess over James.

"Well of course you did, Padfoot," James muttered.  "You're the only person I know who can still function properly this late at night."

"Excuses, excuses . . . is poor little Jamesy-poo a sore loser?" 

"I'm going to bed, Sirius.  You coming?"

"Nah, I need to stay up a bit longer before I'm tired enough to sleep."

"You'll be awful in the morning."

"But aren't I always?"

James grinned.  "Alright, then.  Good night."

"Night."

Sirius positioned himself comfortably in a chair by the dying fire and stared into it reflectively, enjoying this moment of peace.  It didn't last long.  Within a minute, the door to Gryffindor tower was flung open and a sobbing figure burst inside.  She collapsed on the couch, apparently unaware anyone else was in the room.  "Samantha?"

She looked up and her face went white at the sight of him.  She hurriedly tried to wipe away her tears.

"What's wrong?"  Sirius cautiously crossed to the couch and sat down beside her.

She looked up at his open, honest face and thought she saw a trace of true compassion, but she hesitated, remembering Lily's words.  Her friend could be over-protective, but still, she was usually right.

"What happened?"  This time Sirius' voice emanated with concern, and Samantha's eyes immediately clouded over with tears again.

"It's, it's just that . . . I can't take anymore of this!  She's my sister!  You'd think she'd at least pretend to love me, wouldn't you?" the girl burst out vehemently.

"Oh.  Sarah again."  There was an edge to his voice.  He had seen the open displays of disgust Samantha's elder Ravenclaw sister Sarah had performed toward her younger sibling.  Dirty looks in the hall, walking by Samantha shaking her head and clicking her tongue.  When someone asked her if it was true that it was her little sister who had thrown a temper tantrum when pronounced a Gryffindor during the Sorting ceremony, Sarah had responded, "That immature crybaby?  I've never seen her in my life."  A rift had opened between the formerly inseparable sisters the moment they both set foot in the same school, and Sirius had never seen anyone more upset over a sibling rivalry than Samantha.  "What'd she do this time?"

Between sobs, Samantha recounted what had happened.  "I was on my way back from the library where I was tutoring a second year in Charms when I met Sarah and her friends in the hall.  Sarah gave me the most awful look and asked why I was out in the halls so late.  Her friend said I was probably on the way to another detention, and everyone began laughing.  Except Sarah.  She just stared at me and said, 'Samantha, I want you to get away from me right now.  You're a disgrace to this family and a disgrace to me.  And if I hear of you getting one more detention, I'll see to it that you don't return to Hogwarts next year.'  And she whirled around and ran off.  I wouldn't mind it so much if she teased me like normal big sisters do, but I can't stand her hatred."

Sirius sat in silence, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists.  How could anyone say such a thing to a girl as sweet as Samantha?  Especially knowing how melodramatic and easily hurt she was?  He finally said, "Why didn't you say something back?  You know – confront her and tell her how horrible she's acting?"

"I—I could never do that."  She burst into tears again and no matter what Sirius did – offer her some Butterbeer or a game of chess that he promised to let her win – he couldn't get her to stop.  

He finally said, "I'm having some real trouble with our Divination assignment that's due tomorrow.  That's why I'm down here so late – trying to finish it up.  Do you think you could help me?"  He had finished the assignment hours ago, but he was prepared to do anything, even work, to get the girl to stop crying.

She looked up at him, her lip still trembling, but her tears coming to a stop, and nodded yes.  After quietly discussing the meanings of star movements for about twenty minutes, Samantha had finally returned to as close to calm as was possible for the night.  A slight creak made both of them look up to find Lily standing on the staircase.

"Sammy?" she asked.  "What are you doing up?  I woke up for a minute and panicked to see you'd never come back from tutoring.  What are you doing?"  She glared suspiciously at Sirius.

"Just doing my Divination homework, Lil."

"Helping Sirius, you mean."  When Samantha made no response, Lily's eyebrows shot up and she walked back to her dorm muttering, "I warned her . . ."

Sirius was just about to ask Samantha what Lily meant, when he noticed she had fallen fast asleep on his shoulder.  He wrapped an arm around her and whispered, "Everything's going to be alright."

*~*~*

As soon as the boy and girl left the common room, Elizabeth's dream quickly soured.  The girl lay comfortably in her bed, when she suddenly sat straight up, her back rigid.  Her scream rang high and shrill, just before a blinding green light rushed into the room.  In the dormitory across the hall, the boy awoke in a hot sweat.  He tore out of bed and rushed to her room as fast as his legs would carry him.  But when he reached it, her bed was empty.

Elizabeth's hands shot out at her sides as she woke from the dream, grabbing the couch in panic.  She didn't release her tight grip until she had safely assured herself it was just a dream.  She stood up and looked slowly around.  Her eyes alighted on _Intoned Charms: Expression of the Ancient Magic where it had fallen onto the floor from her lap.  Despite the fact that her heart was still pounding in fear and her head was clouded by fatigue, Elizabeth felt a sudden flood of power surging through her veins.  She took a step forward, turned around, and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  The large scarlet couch lifted into the air, hovered, and dropped gently back down._

Elizabeth's wand lay untouched on the ground.

**AN:  **I'm too exhausted to do any editing beyond Spell Check at the moment & I really want to post this tonight before we leave for New York tomorrow, so bear with me and please ignore any mistakes.  To my reviewers:**  Ra-chan**, yes, fanfiction deprivation definitely is a scary thing.  If I don't start getting proper doses, my chapters will keep getting longer & longer and I'll bore everyone out of their minds ^_^  **Snowwolf**, losing your touch?  Never!  I still love reading your reviews as much as always!  And I'm so pleased you loved the flight scene!  I was afraid I might be getting too lost in description.  **Lady Lanya Artemisan**, 'unique?'  Thank you!  One of my favorite compliments ;)  And I can return it – for your fics are quite unique, too =)  **Renai**, thank you so much for reading this, and especially for liking Elizabeth!  Although please do warn me if she becomes unbearably Mary-Sueish, as I trust your judgment in that area…  **Karma50**, is Ron sweet enough for you yet?  Glad you like the time-swapping, 'cuz I'm having tons of fun with it and don't plan to stop =)  **Blue Umbrella**, ah, you came!  I thought I might regret telling you about it, but now I'm just overjoyed.  Your support means so much to me.  But if I ever start making a fool of myself, you'll warn me, right? ;)  **Anne K. Letoile**, I hope you were being honest when you said you like long chapters, because for some reason I'm becoming addicted to them, too.  I'm coming to review chapter 4 of your story as soon as I post this (that is, if my computer doesn't freeze while I'm in the middle of reading it…)  And of course, dear **pixiepoop**, you've cheered my day more than you can know!  Don't worry about Ron becoming enamored with Elizabeth.  How could he, when he's in love with Hermione?  That's why he hated Elizabeth so much to begin with – she stole part of Hermione's affections from him ;)  But I won't be getting into that romance in this fic.  Maybe for my next one…?  Hmm, there's a thought…  And btw, the constrained praise of a total stranger means a whole lot to me.  So thanks.  To all of you.

~ WhetherRose


	7. Truth

Disclaimer:  Too tired to write a new one; see previous chapter 

**Author's Note: **This is the first day in eight weeks that I've been in my own home with no company.  To celebrate this sudden freedom, I decided to sit down and work on my poor, abandoned fanfic.  I was thinking about writing a page, but I ended up with a whole chapter.  All written in one day – that's a new one for me.  Granted, the first part was written at 2 AM this morning before I went to bed, so the time sequence may be a little incoherent.  It was awful before, but I think I've fixed it.  Then of course, I didn't wake up until noon, so I felt sluggish the entire day and was just hit with the desire to write at 10 at night.  *sigh* Late night writing, _c'est la vie.  _Any questions, anything you find confusing (you most likely will find something) just say so in your review.  Thanks, Rose.

Chapter Seven: Truth 

Nightmares and visions continued to plague Elizabeth frequently after the night, three days ago, that she had performed her first Intoned Charm, continually growing stronger and more vivid.  And they were not just in the form of late night dreams anymore.  The daydreams that found their way into Elizabeth's mind were almost as disturbing, although waking up to be surrounded by people and light was far more comforting than the dead silence of the dark.  Professor Flitwick was becoming especially concerned.

Elizabeth had commented on her first day that she felt something peculiar in the Charms classroom, although what then she had considered a comforting feeling, she now thought of as more frightening.  The first time she'd found reason to fear Charms had occurred three days ago, just after lunch.  She had been sitting gratefully back in her seat in the class she most loved, when an irrepressible wave of tiredness had washed over her.  She was exhausted from staying up nearly to dawn each morning working fanatically on intoning further charms, and when the lull of comfort of the classroom had hit her, she'd readily accepted it and had begun nodding off in her seat.

She had been surprised when, still half-awake, she began to hallucinate – or something close.  She could still see her fellow classmates through bleary eyes, but in the corner of the room stood the girl who was continually haunting Elizabeth's dreams, and the boy who occasionally appeared with her.  The girl was sobbing.  The boy gripped her tightly by the robes on her shoulders, trying with all his might to quiet her, but she pushed him away.  He reached for her again, and she became hysterical, screaming that he shouldn't touch her, he couldn't save her.  She pulled out of his arms and fled from the room, tears blinding her startlingly blue eyes.

Elizabeth had awoken with tears running down her own face, and had had to quickly excuse herself from class.

***

It was a Thursday night when the girl, although older looking this time, appeared once again in Elizabeth's dreams.

In the deep dark of midnight a young woman was running across the cobbled stones of a wide street, her shoes echoing eerily.  _Click, clack, click, clack.  She seemed frightened, although there are few who wouldn't have been on such a night.  Peaceful as it was, the blackness was almost unbearable, pressing in ever more tightly.  No stars shown in the sky, and no sounds could be heard besides the sharp tone of her shoes.  __Click, clack, click, clack.  The woman never deterred.  Her path was set, her determination clear.  After several minutes simply running, a tear caught the light of a solitary street lamp on the corner, running coolly down the woman's cheek.  She stiffened and her fists clenched.  Something was coming.  She knew it, but she never stopped.  Perhaps, if she just pushed on a little longer, if she ignored the evil seeping up to catch her, perhaps . . . But the last thought was never finished.  A light came rushing out of nowhere, and in the blink of an eye, the woman was engulfed by it and lay sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs bent unnaturally, her thick honey-brown hair spilling onto the cold stones of the street.  She was dead.  And a cold menacing laugh filled the air . . ._

Elizabeth shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake, wiping the sweat from her brow and gasping in quick, shallow breaths.  Her dreams were getting worse.  This wasn't the first time she'd had this one; it had been haunting her for nearly a week.  But it had seemed unusually vivid tonight.  She had felt the heart of the woman beating as she ran, heard the echo of her steps in the silent street, been swept up in the sudden rush as the woman lay instantly dead.  

As her heart rate steadied itself, Elizabeth glanced around the dorm room, and jolted to see three faces staring back at her through the night.  She was about to reach for her wand, when she realized she was seeing her three roommates.  Hermione looked concerned.  Lavender and Parvati simply looked petrified.  "You screamed," Lavender commented, her face as white as ever.

Elizabeth didn't know how to respond.  She finally asked, "Did I?"

"Yes," Parvati replied, in the same monotone voice as Lavender.  "High.  And shrill."

"And loud," Lavender added.

Elizabeth continued to stare at them.  She couldn't recall having screamed.  But she could imagine what it would have sounded like if she had.  And that sound would be the perfect explanation to the terrified faces looming out of the darkness.  She turned numbly to find that Hermione had come to sit beside her.  "Are you okay?" Hermione asked, her voice soothing.  "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," Elizabeth answered, although she didn't feel it.   "I'll be fine soon," she amended.  "Sorry for waking you."

The girls each huddled back under their covers, trying desperately to recapture sleep.  Several minutes had passed when Lavender whispered, "Don't you _ever do that again."  Her voice quaked with fear.  "I thought someone was dying."_

Elizabeth shuddered, and repeated her answer to Hermione's question, more as a comfort to Lavender than to herself.  "I'll be fine soon."  

The girls drifted off into sleep.

***

 Elizabeth, however, couldn't have been more wrong.  However fervently she hoped for it, the nightmares wouldn't leave her alone.

None of the Gryffindor fourth year girls slept very soundly after being awoken by Elizabeth's cry, and they all awoke the next morning feeling like they'd received no rest at all.  Charms was their first class, and Elizabeth knew even before stepping into the classroom that she wouldn't make it through the whole lesson awake, no matter how hard she tried.

She was right.  About halfway through, her eyelids felt leaden and began to droop.  And there she was again – the girl with the soft honey-brown curls and bright blue eyes.  It was the same daydream as last time – the girl resisting the boy's help, pulling away and crying feverishly, insisting that he leave her alone before he got hurt, too.  Only this time, instead of allowing her to flee the room, the boy pulled her tight to his chest and vowed to protect her no matter what.  She ceased her desperate sobbing, and the boy looked down at her to say, "See?  I told you everything would be all right," but the words stuck in his throat as he saw her face.  The girl in his arms was dead.

The entire class jumped as Elizabeth awoke screaming.  Her face was white, and she was shaking violently.  Slowly, she looked around and remembered where she was, gradually regaining control.  "Miss Satine?" Professor Flitwick asked.  "Are you okay?"  She nodded softly, and after much insistence, Flitwick returned to teaching, although he couldn't help but notice how Elizabeth's face remained as white as a sheet the remaining half hour of class, and that her breathing came in short, shallow gasps, stopping altogether every few moments as she clenched her fists tightly.

After class he called her to his desk.  "Miss Satine," he began, "it has come to my attention that . . ."

"Professor, don't!" she interrupted.  "I'm sorry for disturbing class, I really am.  Just don't make me explain.  I can't."

" . . . that your recent work is of a much lower quality than I'm used to seeing from you," the professor finished, ignoring his student's outburst.

"What?" Elizabeth stared at him blankly.

He sighed and looked her in the eyes.  "Something is bothering you, Elizabeth, and your work is suffering from it.  I won't interfere if you're not comfortable telling me, but I suggest you find _some way to resolve whatever's going on.  Because if this keeps up for much longer, your average may drop to failing."_

She gaped at him, and for the first time the ridiculousness of how she'd been living recently hit her.  She'd become so occupied with learning the ways of Intoned Charms and the Ancient Magic that she'd abandoned the work she was supposed to be doing.  Not only that, but late nights and the exertion of so much energy and power was affecting her physically as well as academically.  She was looking gaunt, thin, and sickly.  Hermione had just that morning confronted her about it, begging to know what could possibly be going on that had caused such a great change in her friend in just four days.  Elizabeth had said nothing and she said nothing now to the professor who was giving her the same concerned look Hermione had.  She merely nodded and walked out the door.  She collapsed beside the portrait of the Fat Lady, unable even to make it inside Gryffindor Tower before dissolving into tears.

*~*~*

Lily Evans glanced around to see Sirius Black darting into the halls from the Charms classroom she and Samantha had just left and muttered, "Just great.  Following us again."  Grabbing her friend's hand, she said, "Come on, Samantha.  Let's speed up so we'll get to Potions with enough time to go over last night's assignment."

Lily was too late, for just at that moment, Sirius popped up behind the girls and cried cheerily, "Samantha!" 

 Samantha stopped, and was bemused to see the giddy, almost child-look expression on the boy's face.  "What now, Sirius?" she asked with a laugh.

"I was just talking with Professor Flitwick and . . ."  
"Not another detention, I hope," Lily interjected.

Sirius looked at Lily with raised eyebrows.  "That's exactly what James said," he commented, before turning back to Samantha.  Lily rolled her eyes.  "He wanted to tell me how much he loved the article I wrote for my detention assignment.  He said it was really thoughtful and I have great potential!  Can you believe that?  He really liked it!"

Samantha laughed.  "Of course he did.  You're really smart when you try and you have a great sense of humor that shines through in your writing.  I'm not surprised."

Sirius just stared at her for a minute, finally replying, "Well, I never could have done it without your help."  Before he could think about what he was doing, he threw his arms around her in a tight hug.  "Thanks," he murmured.

Lily watched him walk away with a critical eye, which she then turned on her best friend, who was still standing in the same position, her eyes fixed on Sirius' retreating back.  Samantha looked up to find Lily staring at her.

"C'mon, Lil, don't look at me like that."

"You know what I'm going to say."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean it's true."

"Samantha, open your eyes!  He has you trapped in the palm of his hand!  He's manipulating you to get all the help and perfect grades he needs!"

"I think you're just jealous."

"Jealous!  Sam, listen to me, there's nothing . . ."

"I'm sorry," Samantha sighed.  "Forget I mentioned it, Lil.  I've already lost Sarah, I can't bear to lose you, too."  

Lily pursed her lips and walked the rest of the way to Potions in silence.  Samantha couldn't see the truth now, but she would.  Soon.

*~*~*

"Elizabeth – I think, _the team thinks, that you should stop coming to Quidditch practice for awhile."  Harry closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow.  It was Friday afternoon, and he had been elected by the team to break the news to their newest practice member.  Harry had prayed that Elizabeth wouldn't show up for this practice, and it wasn't too unlikely that his hope would come true, considering that Elizabeth hadn't been seen since first period Charms that morning.  But as always, she had come.  And now here she was, sitting in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth frozen open in horror at his words.  Harry knew this speechlessness wouldn't last for long, not with Elizabeth's energy._

Finally she stood up, disbelief giving her face a pained look.  "Harry!" she cried emphatically.  "How could you?!  I thought you loved me coming to practice!  I thought that was the main reason you're improving so much – finally having someone to fly against, one on one!  And not to mention how much fun we've been having!  When I came here this team had such dull, strict improvement drills.  You have to admit it's better now!  Fun, vigorous, and ever so much more helpful!  The entire team admits you've never been flying better!  What is it, Harry?  You think I take this too lightly?  That just because I'm not part of the team, I don't know what's best for it?  How could you all turn on me like this?"

Harry sighed.  This was what he'd been expecting.  Despite her usually calm and cheerful demeanor, Elizabeth could be quite the handful when upset.  But he wasn't worried; it never lasted for long.  "Elizabeth," he said, his voice complacent, "We love having you work with us.  You _know that.  But we're not going to use you to help us improve at your expense."_

"What?"  The girl looked genuinely confused.

"Look at you – you're thin, you're pale, you look _sickly.  You're overworking yourself.  Hermione told us you're having trouble catching up on last year's work in addition to this year's homework.  She said you're so busy and flustered you can't even concentrate on her Potions tutoring anymore."_

"That's not true!"

"You spilled an entire cauldron of sun protection potion on Neville yesterday.  He's as white as snow."

"I . . . I . . ."

Harry took advantage of Elizabeth's hesitance by saying firmly, "We've decided you can't come back to practice until you've sufficiently proved you're on top of your work.  And when you regain some weight and put some color back in those cheeks.  You'll be sorely missed, but it's for your own good."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with glittering tears.  "But Harry, I _need Quidditch practice.  Without it I'll have no relief from all this work.  And after a particularly hard practice, my dreams . . ." she paused, then whispered, "my dreams aren't so vivid."_

Harry bit his lip.  He understood perfectly well what she was talking about, and was tempted to give in.  But then the girl swayed on her feet, and had to grab tight hold of the pole of the goalpost they were standing beside to keep from falling over. Harry hardened from concern about her weakness.  "Go, Elizabeth.  Get some rest."

She said nothing, just turned and walked away, dazed and upset.

"Elizabeth?"

She turned and gave Harry an empty look.

"Would you like to spend the next Hogsmeade trip with Ron, Hermione, and I?  There's someone I'd like you to come and meet with us."  

Elizabeth, not realizing what a big deal this invitation meant to Harry, merely looked at him and said, "I'll think about it.  I might not be able to come.  All that work I have to catch up on, you know."  Harry watched her walk away, then put his face in his hands, feeling suddenly drained.

***

Elizabeth entered the common room hoping to find a little peace and quiet, but as soon as she stepped through the portrait hole, Hermione confronted her.  "Elizabeth, what's the matter with you lately?"

"Not now, Hermione.  Harry's just finished with me, and I've had enough."

"I'm your friend.  I deserve to know what's going on."

"I'm tired.  Don't you have some work you need to be doing?  Some extra research or something?"  Elizabeth's voice was mild enough, but Hermione felt the sting of the words.

"I should ask you the same question."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Intoned Charms, Elizabeth?" Hermione asked, holding up Samantha's little cream book.  "What do you think you're doing taking on more work when you can't handle what you already have?"

"Hermione, just let me rest."

"Not until I get an answer!"  There was none.  "Elizabeth!  Something's haunting you.  I know.  I've heard you wake up night after night.  And the whole year witnessed that little scene in Charms this morning.  What's going on?"

Elizabeth stopped walking and faced her friend, tears spilling over her pale cheeks.  "I don't know."  Although she had an idea.  Looking through an old photo album that afternoon after Charms, the reason she had skipped her remaining classes, she had found a picture of the girl from her dreams.  It was her Aunt Samantha.  She hadn't been too surprised, but the meaning of the dreams still puzzled her.  Why was she seeing a relative she had never met and knew so little about?  But she didn't share her concerns, although it hurt to keep secrets from Hermione. 

 "Don't worry about me," she whispered.  "I'll be fine soon."

Hermione had heard that line before.  She hadn't believed it then, and she didn't believe it now.  But it was obvious Elizabeth needed rest, so she let her slip off to the dormitories in silence, and then turned to spend her Friday night playing a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny.

*~*~*

"Finally the weekend!" Sirius exclaimed brightly late Friday night.

"That's the fifth time you've said that since supper."  Lily gave Sirius an annoyed look.

The boy jumped onto a chair, spread his arms wide, and cried innocently, "But Lily!  That means we have no classes tomorrow!"

Lily rolled her eyes.  "Come on, Sam," she said, motioning towards the girls' dormitory, "I can't handle that kid's enthusiasm when I'm tired."

Samantha was busy trying to teach Remus an advanced charm.  "Just a minute, Lil."

"Yeah, Lily, what's the hurry?" Sirius brandished a hand around him theatrically.  "We have the common room all to ourselves and you want to leave?  I suggest a game of Giant Exploding Snap!"

James looked up from his game of wizard chess with Peter (who was watching in dismay as his knight was smashed into the board).  "And wake up the entire House, Sirius?"

"Well, what else can we do?"  Sirius jumped off the chair and landed with a soft plop in front of the fire.

Lily paused at the top of the stairs to her dormitory, her look of fatigue replaced by one of sudden inspiration.  A second later she was back in the common room.  "I know a game!" she exclaimed.  She snatched up Samantha and Remus' wands, pushed aside the chess game ("Lily!  I was winning!" cried James), and pulled her five classmates into a half-circle around the glowing fire.  She stood up in the middle, and clearing her throat, announced, "It's time to discover what kind of witches and wizards we have here – brave, weak, confident, honest – to see if some of us are just using the talents of others to our own advantage . . ."

"You're pushing it, Lily," Samantha muttered in an undertone.  Lily winked at her.

" . . . or whether we have true friends among us."

"And how do you propose we do that?"  James asked doubtfully.  He wondered what had gotten into her.  It was not like Lily to want anything to do with Sirius or himself.

"Why, with a game of truth or dare, of course!"

James snorted.  He was still bitter over being interrupted during his first time beating Peter at chess all week.  "What are you talking about, Evans?"

Lily was unfazed by James' skepticism, and she cheerfully explained the rules to her friends that had never heard of this odd-sounding Muggle game.  By the time she had finished, James had gone white.  "I don't think that's such a good idea . . ."

"Why?  Have something to hide, Potter?"  Lily grinned at him, and James blushed.

"No!  Absolutely not!"

"Well, then," Lily continued, "who's going to play?"

There was an uneasy silence, in which the four boys exchanged nervous glances, and Samantha glared at Lily, knowing her true intention was to prove Sirius was only being polite to her to get help with his homework.

"I will," Sirius piped up suddenly.

Lily smiled, and Samantha saw how pleased she was that her plan was working.  "Good, I'll start with you then, Sirius," she said.  "Truth or dare?"

Sirius gave a mischievous grin before shocking everyone by replying, "Truth."

Lily was ecstatic, she couldn't have asked for better.  She looked to her victim, whose face had gone unexpectedly solemn, as if he was preparing for some arduous task.  Samantha closed her eyes, trying to remember the spell that would allow her to mute Lily's voice from embarrassing her if necessary.  But as the question was asked, she felt a sudden desire to hear the response.  "Why have you been so nice to Samantha lately?  Do you truly want to be her friend, or are you just using her?"

Sirius' face showed no surprise.  In fact, he seemed to be expecting something along these lines.  "To be honest, my main goal was never to become friends.  I . . ." he paused, looking at Lily.  "Do I have to tell you, or can I speak directly to Samantha?"

The question startled Lily, who was still somewhat taken aback by how calmly Sirius was responding, and by how, well, serious, he was acting.  She had expected him to be upset to discover they knew of his dishonest intentions.  "What?" she asked.  "Oh, sure . . . I suppose you can.  Go ahead."

He turned to face Samantha, and started again.  "I never meant to become friends with you.  I mean, certainly I like being friends with – you would consider us friends, right?  And it's good to be friends, too, but that wasn't the main goal.  Something good along the way, I can always use friends, but . . ." Sirius trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.  He took a deep breath.  "What I mean to say is . . . Samantha, I really like you.  I'm sorry if the way I've been acting has made you think I'm trying to use you, because really, well, I was really just hoping we could . . . you know, be . . . more than friends."

No one, not even Samantha, who had had such faith in Sirius all along, had expected this.  His five companions sat staring at him open-mouthed.  In the midst of their discomfort, Sirius began to feel more at ease again.  "It's my turn now, right?" he asked with earnestness.  It took awhile for Lily to acknowledge his question, and even then she could only nod dumbly.  "Samantha," he said, his eyes twinkling.  "Truth or dare."

Samantha found her voice with difficulty.  "Truth," she whispered.

"Would you like to go on a date with me in Hogsmeade next Saturday?"

She let out a sigh of relief – he wasn't going to force her to reveal her feelings for him quite yet.  "I'd love to," she replied.  The fire had died, but her smile was enough to light up the room.

*~*~*

It was the dead of night and Elizabeth lay wrapped peacefully in her bed.  That is, until a dull _click, clack, click, clack,_ began echoing around her brain.  In her subconscious state, Elizabeth pushed at the dream.  _Go away_, she thought at it, _leave me alone_.  But all too soon she could see that wide, deserted street once again in her mind's eye.  And there was Samantha, running, always running.  _Click, clack, click, clack,_ went her shoes on the old cobblestones.  Elizabeth hated this dream.  She hated the dark, the fear hidden in it, and the desperation pulsing through the young woman's body.  It was even more disturbing now that she knew who the young woman was.  She tried forcing herself to wake up, but it was as if the dream wouldn't allow her.  As if it needed to be seen.

_Click, clack, click, clack._  It replayed itself, the same as ever.  Samantha stiffened, then ran faster.  The streetlight on the corner lit her face briefly and a tear trickled down her cheek.  And still her feet fled down the street.  _Click, clack, click, clack.  _****But now Elizabeth saw that Samantha carried something in her arms.  A bundle.  A baby.  She cradled it to her chest with the utmost gentleness, despite the fear evident in her every feature.  The baby whimpered, and Samantha hummed a soothing lullaby as she ran, her voice quavering only every once in a while. 

Suddenly Samantha stopped.  She appeared to see something, or someone, standing directly before her.  Whatever it was, it filled Samantha with the utmost dread, but Elizabeth couldn't make it out in the dream.  The baby in the young woman's arms began to cry, and she bent down, her soft hair gently brushing over the child's forehead.  "Hush, Lizzy," she whispered.  "Nothing can harm you."  The baby looked up at her mother with questioning eyes.  Samantha kissed her lightly.  "I love you," she continued.  "Elizabeth, sweetie, I love you."

The peaceful scene of mother and daughter shattered in an instant.  A flash, and the baby lay on the ground, nestled among the cold cobblestones.  Samantha hovered before her, her arms seemingly pinned behind her.  Some force was holding her back.  The woman kicked and screamed and fought with all her might, but she couldn't free herself.  "Elizabeth!" her voice shattered the night, high and shrill.  "Elizabeth!  I love you, sweetie, I love you!"  She repeated the last line over and over as the force pulled her further and further away.  "I love you, Elizabeth!  I love you!"  The scream was so desperate and heartbreaking that Elizabeth, curled in her bed, dreaming, began to miss the clicking of shoes.  Any sound was better than this tragic cry.

The street faded, and all Elizabeth could see were the woman and her baby.  The baby crying, the woman reaching, reaching, but only getting farther away.  "Elizabeth!" she cried.  "Elizabeth!  _Elizabeth!"_

Elizabeth shot up in bed for what seemed like the hundredth time, finally breaking free from the dream.  She was shaking, and her head was still pounding with the woman's shrieks.  Samantha's shrieks.  For her baby.  For Elizabeth.  For _her._

She began to cry, starting with a few silent tears, and breaking way into racking sobs.  

Hermione was at her side instantly.  _Good old Hermione.  Always here for me, the best friend I could have.  And yet I pull away from her.  Tears poured from Elizabeth's eyes as she buried her face in Hermione's shoulder.  "What's wrong?"  Hermione trembled.  "What did you see?"  _

_I have to tell her, Elizabeth thought.  __She deserves to know after all she's done for me.  But she couldn't bring herself to do it, because she wasn't exactly sure what the dream meant herself.  Only one detail was clear, only one truth evident.  And the implications of that truth were too much for Elizabeth.  She couldn't speak it aloud._

She failed to understand most of the dream, but the dream hadn't failed in delivering its principle message:  Samantha Satine was her mother.

**To my reviewers:**

**_Balizabeth:_** That is the cutest story behind a penname I've yet heard.  I just love little kids.  I love the name Elizabeth, too.  It's my middle name and the name I always used to use when my cousins & I played princesses when we were little :)  And thank you so much for the "glowing review".  It caused a glowing smile on the face of the author ^_^

**_Bessyboo:_** Wow, I'm honored you re-read the whole thing, and I'm glad you like Samantha so much.  I had a lot of fun with her character this chapter.  Although it's rather sad writing some of those dream sequences.  I agree, they can be rather creepy.  Don't worry, you'll eventually find out how she really died.  And thanks again for your enthusiasm ^_^

**_Karma50:_** I see your writer's block has partially cured, as you posted another chapter today.  I wish you further luck in getting rid of it.  Writer's block can be a pain.  My main problem is with time, though – there's never enough!  But what am I talking about, I just wrote an entire chapter in a day . . .  Anyway, no Ron in this chapter, but plenty of Sirius. I hope that's good enough :)

**_Pinefresh:_** Okay, first of all, this fic will never be Ron/Elizabeth.  Or Harry/Elizabeth, for that matter.  I'm right with you – Ron belongs to Hermione and Harry is Ginny's.  Secondly, how could anyone be better than Harry at Quidditch?  Nope, not even Elizabeth will do that.  So don't worry ^_^  Thanks for coming and reading this whole thing, I really appreciate it.  And I'm glad you like it :)

**_Anne K. Letoile: _***smiles* Thanks for the long review.  I loved reading it.  I'd write a page long response if I weren't so tired ^_^  You can be impressed with my ability to write long chapters, and I'll be impressed with your ability to not procrastinate.  I'm a huge procrastinator, although you wouldn't believe it if you'd just met me 'cuz I'm also a perfectionist.  Awful combination.  I'm trying with all my might to break it.  

I've never heard of Newsies, or else I would have read some of your other fics as  I really like your writing style.  *smiles again*  I had a great time in New York, thank you.  I love that city, too, and can understand perfectly why you want to live there when you're older.  I'm leaning towards Rome, myself.  That's my other favorite big city.  *sigh* _Dare to dream, Rose . . ._

**_Ra-chan: _**Yes, you were first, as usual.  My biggest supporter ^_^  (Along with you, Blue Umbrella, but I've already responded to your review in an e-mail).  Did you review as you read?  *smiles*  I love that.  It's fun reading your reviews since you already know what's going to happen.  _Don't tell Elizabeth & Katy they're Mary-Sues.  They won't kill you, but I can picture the vase-throwing incident all over again.  Are you doing all right stuck out in no man's land?  I'll drop you an e-mail as soon as I have the time.  And I might have something interesting to tell you . . ._


	8. Complications

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Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

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AN: Wow. I just read over this and couldn't even remember having written at least 85% of it . . . I welcome any form of constructive criticism, especially on this chapter. I wrote different segments when I was in completely different frames of mind, so the writing style fluctuates a lot. Tell me what you like & tell me what bothers you! Of course, if you're not in a critical mood (as I so often am), just reviewing to say you at least read it will do, too. I need reviews this week! They always put me in a better mood & a smile would be greatly appreciated at the moment! Also, I realize another horrible MS quality emerges regarding Elizabeth in this chapter. Any suggestions on how to keep her from becoming a detestable character are welcome, as always. And lastly, now that school's started, I'm hoping to get into the habit of writing shorter chapters & therefore being able to update more frequently. I'm guessing my kind readers who've put up with spending long quantities of time reading these chapters will be grateful for that. But we'll see . . . Thanks for coming back to read this! Yours, WhetherRose.

Btw – Don't panic – this isn't as long as it looks. There's just a huge thanks section at the end ^_^

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Chapter Eight: Complications

"Here it is," Hermione murmured, pushing a heavy book across the table to Elizabeth, her finger in place over the third paragraph on page 478. Elizabeth stared at her friend blankly, and Hermione, giving an exasperated sigh, pulled the tome back toward her. They had been sitting at the same table in the library since three o'clock that morning, and neither was in much of a mood to be there any more. Or at least be there _awake_. 

But after being wrested from slumber by Elizabeth's dream, neither could fall back asleep. Deciding to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak and to try to find some answers in a book, they had tiptoed into the 4th year boys' dormitory. Harry, a light sleeper ever since Sirius' nighttime "attack" on Ron last year, had awoken at the sound of someone rummaging through his things, and had insisted on joining them. Just half an hour later he lay fast asleep surrounded by a pile of books. 

Elizabeth had at first been struck with a fervent desire to find out exactly what was haunting her, and had scanned book after book with an incredible passion for hours. Now she looked numb, staring at Hermione from empty eyes. Hermione pointed patiently at the book in her hand and read, "The art of Divination takes on a variety of forms . . ." she stopped and scanned down the page. "Elizabeth, are you listening to this?" Elizabeth's head snapped up just before hitting the table, and her eyelids fluttered in response. "Don't fall asleep on me now, Lizzy. You know I don't usually take this Divination stuff seriously, and right now might be the only exception."

Tears flooded Elizabeth's eyes as she choked out, "Don't – call – me – Lizzy!" Hermione winced. "_She_ called me Lizzy!" And the girl collapsed onto the table, the hair covering her face whispering up and down as she sobbed.

"Elizabeth, you're tired. We should get you to bed," murmured Hermione, placing her hand on her friend's shaking shoulder.

"I can't!"

"Shh . . . don't worry about class, I'll cover for you." Hermione glanced at the girl's frail figure, adding, mostly to herself, "They'll certainly believe it if I say you're ill."

"I'll have another dream!" Elizabeth looked up, and there was a great desperation, fed by shock and fatigue, shining from her glazed eyes. "Don't make me have another dream! Don't make me see it again!"

"But that's what I'm trying to tell you! I don't think they're really dreams! Just listen to this!"

"Hermione! You don't get it, do you? I just found out that my parents lied to me! _Again!_ And . . . and . . ." her voice trembled and dropped in volume to an urgent whisper, "_they're not even my parents_. I've been living a lie my _entire life_. And I discovered that by watching my real mother _die_. Right before my eyes."

Silence enveloped the two girls staring at each other desperately, and the boy who was snoring lightly beside them. Hermione broke it after a minute by saying, "Elizabeth, I think you're a Seer."

The line did the trick. Elizabeth's eyes widened and she forgot her misery in a moment of surprise. "What?"

Hermione handed her the book for a second time and pointed. Elizabeth read:

__

The art of Divination takes on a variety of forms. From the everyday person, magical or Muggle, with the ability to sense danger before it happens or to see the "inner personality" of a new acquaintance before a word is said, to those with the talent to correctly read and interpret signs of the universe, to the all-powerful Seer, usually classified as one who envisions, vaguely or in detail, events of the future.

"But I didn't see the future."

"Read on. And don't roll your eyes at me."

__

These three examples can all be classified as different power levels in the same category – those with the gift of precognition. The Divine Consulate branch of the Ministry of Magic, however, has recently identified a second category. During their study of how the Ancient Magic enhanced methods of Divination in days long past . . .

"When was this written?"

"Early twentieth century. Keep reading."

__

. . . the Consulate unearthed documents describing a class of Seers uncommon in the present day, talented in what can only be thought of as 'postcognition.'

"_Post_cognition?"

"Don't laugh. If I'm going to try and take this seriously, the least you can do is help."

__

This rare talent allows the one gifted with it to envision events of the past. Because it is connected directly with the workings of the Ancient Magic, which supposedly regulates when such visions are meant to manifest themselves to the Seer, very few today are blessed with such a talent.

"They call this a blessing?!?"

Hermione was not in the mood for another of Elizabeth's rants, and wisely chose not to answer. Instead, she said, "Those things you dreamt – do you think they were real past events?" Over the course of the night, Elizabeth had recounted all her visions to Hermione (and parts to Harry while he was still awake), hoping for some help in deciphering them. She had, in the process, also admitted to the work she'd been doing on intoned charms.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and replied, "Parts of them, yes. That last one – where she was running through the streets – that was real. That's how she died – running away from something with me in her arms. But parts of it were probably just normal dream symbolism, or, according to this book, things the Ancient Magic doesn't feel like revealing to me yet."

"You really think the Ancient Magic still exists?"

"It's diminished, but I don't think it can ever vanish altogether. Besides, how else would I have been able to intone a charm?"

Hermione frowned. She hadn't been extremely impressed when she'd discovered the reason Elizabeth was falling behind in her schoolwork and looking exceptionally sickly. "Look, let's just forget about Intoned Charms for a min . . ."

Both girls were startled as the ringing of a bell rent the air. Harry tossed in his sleep, the invisibility cloak slipping smoothly to the floor, where it lay in a silvery puddle at his feet. Hermione shook him impatiently, crying, "Harry! Wake up! Herbology!"

The boy looked up at her groggily, pushing a hand through his disheveled hair. "What about Herbology?" he muttered, barely coherent.

"Go there! Tell Professor Sprout I'm bringing Elizabeth to the Infirmary and will be there shortly." 

The girls watched him scurry off with raised eyebrows. "You think we should tell him he's still in his pajamas?" Hermione asked as he dashed around the corner toward the entrance doors of the castle.

Elizabeth shook her head. "We'll grab his robes when we go up to change and bring them down. He can put them on over." She stood up, stretched, and waved a hand lazily over the mound of books piled on the table. In an instant, all of them, excepting the volume Hermione still cradled in her arms, flew back to their respective places on the shelves. 

Elizabeth was near the library doors when she finally realized she was alone. She turned around to find Hermione staring at her, motionless, still beside the table. Elizabeth sighed. "Look, Hermione, I understand you don't want me intoning any more charms, but that doesn't mean I should stop using the ones I've already learned. I've been able to do the Banishing Charm two days at least. It just comes naturally now. Takes much less energy than doing it by wand . . ." She trailed off at the sight of Hermione's meaningful stare. "What?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To our dorm to change into our robes so we can head down to Herbology."

"What about the Infirmary?"

"You just said that to Harry to buy us enough time to put on our robes and brush our hair and . . . that's just our excuse for being late, right? So Professor Sprout won't be mad. . ?" Her voice faded into a timid murmur.

Hermione glowered at her. "You think I'd lie to a teacher so I can go _brush my hair_?!? You're going to the Infirmary, and that's all there is to it."

"'Mione," Elizabeth simpered, her face shining with appealing innocence. "Look at me. I've been living off hardly any sleep for almost a week now. I can handle one more day. You can't make me miss any classes. My grades in Charms are already slipping; you wouldn't want to be responsible for the same thing happening in other classes, now would you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're just not ready to tell anyone about your dreams."

"So what if I'm not? It's not exactly easy to admit you've just found out your mother isn't who you thought she was. And from a _dream_, nonetheless. Even if it was some sort of postcognition thing, who do you think'll believe me?" Elizabeth's eyes looked up at Hermione's beseechingly, and the imitation of childish innocence exuding from her was almost laughable.

"Oh, all right!" her friend snapped. "Come on! We'll just have to tell Professor Sprout they cured you and sent you back to class." She marched off, trying to appear upset and distraught, but Elizabeth could see the smile toying playfully at the corners of her mouth.

*~*~*

"Good day, ladies!" Sirius' voice cried in delight from just ahead of Samantha and Lily. He bowed gallantly to the girls, exclaiming, "Lady Sam, Lady Lily, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to Herbology this morning?"

The two giggled before Lily replied, her eyes sparkling wickedly, "Lady Sam and I have some things to discuss in private, so we apologize for being unable to accept your gracious invitation. But by all means, you may carry our books if it would please you."

Sirius grinned and winked at Samantha. "And she wonders why James gets so annoyed with her." Lily opened her mouth in protest, but Sirius was faster. He swept the girls' books into his arms, flicked his wand while muttering a swift incantation, and announced, "I'll see you in Herbology then!" before scampering off.

"Did he just curse us?" Lily asked.

Samantha looked at her friend wryly. "He must've really flustered you with that remark to make you not notice that was a shielding charm he cast around us."

"Shielding charm? What for?"

"It's raining."

"Oh."

The girls walked in silence for a while, until Lily asked, "You knew he was decent all along, didn't you?" Samantha nodded her consent. Another pause, then, "How?"

Samantha smiled. "It's a talent, I suppose. I just get these little feelings sometimes, in the pit of my stomach. And I just _know_ whether a person can be trusted, before even getting to know them."

"Maybe you're a Seer," replied Lily lightly. Both girls burst into bright laughter.

"But you know," Samantha commented with a cautious look at her friend, "Maybe I shouldn't depend on those little feelings as much as I have been."

"Why not? They seem to always be right."

"That's what I thought, too, until I started getting this recurring one that couldn't possibly have any truth to it."

Lily's curiosity led her right into the trap. "What is it?"

"Well . . . it seems to me that whenever you're around James Potter you become extremely hostile."

"Anyone can see that, Sam."

"Yes, but does everyone know that those hostilities are merely to cover up feelings of quite the opposite intention?" Samantha asked, her voice lilting suggestively. "Because if they do, then the purpose behind your insults is quite defeated."

Lily gave her friend an astonished glare, then set off at a quick pace towards the main hall, so that Samantha would be unable to read the expression on her face.

Samantha took off after her, crying, "Lil, wait up! You'll break the shielding charm and I'm really not in the mood to get my hair wet!"

*~*~*

"Now, please, be very careful not to touch the petals of the flowers as you pick them. They are eager to suck in any moisture they come into contact with and will quickly wither your fingers. Not to mention the medical uses of the full flower with all petals intact. So remember: pluck by the stem and place each flower gently in your group's bucket. And don't forget that your papers on the Lydiflorum flower are expected next class. Ah, Miss Granger!" Professor Sprout turned with pleasure to see Hermione enter Greenhouse #5, the windows of which were still slightly fogged over from the day's early morning shower. The excess humidity still lingering in the air from the storm made it the perfect day to be working with the Lydiflorum, a flower partial to moisture. "And I see you've brought Miss Satine back with you."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied in a low voice. "She's feeling . . ."

Elizabeth jumped in, feeling guilt at hearing Hermione lie for her. ". . . much better now. Madame Pomfrey really does work wonders."

The professor glanced over Elizabeth's frail figure and white, drawn face critically, but mentioned it not. "I'm glad to hear it," she said instead. "Now if you ladies would join a table and have your partners fill you in, please, for I already see one group that's not plucking their flowers far enough down the stem!" She hurried off to reprimand Dean and Seamus, who, despite Neville's weak objections, were carelessly attempting to finish their task in record time, leaving Hermione and Elizabeth to take their seats beside Harry and Ron.

"You're a Seer?" Ron asked Elizabeth incredulously, before either girl had time to ask the instructions regarding the yellow-petaled flowering plants scattered on the table.

"Ron!" Harry poked Ron in the side, muttering exasperatedly, "You weren't supposed to let them know I told you!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but give a weak smile. "Hermione thinks I am," she said in response to Ron. "Only I see the past, not the future."

"Well what good is that? The past has already happened – you can just look it up in some book."

"Not every event is recorded, Ron," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"What's the use of books then, eh?" Ron quipped. Hermione cast a dirty look his way.

Harry interrupted before an argument had the chance to form. "But you agree with her, don't you, Elizabeth? I don't see how you couldn't – the way you described some of those visions made them sound like real past events re-playing in your head, and not just interpretations of what happened."

Elizabeth bit her lip, a pained look crossing her face as she willed herself to recall some of what she'd seen. As she lingered over the scenes that had recently been troubling her, she absentmindedly picked at the flower in her hands, plucking it petal by petal and letting each float lazily to the greenhouse floor. Finally she said, "They all start extremely real, but by the end they grow more like dreams – more difficult to interpret."

"Like how Samantha's death is never explicitly shown? Just represented by a scream or a green light?" Hermione asked. Elizabeth nodded, rubbing a petal between her forefinger and thumb as she thought.

Harry's voice was soft as he said, "I used to dream of my parents' deaths with green light. Perhaps it means the same thing?"

"Yeah, maybe they're just memories that you're seeing – from when you were a baby – and not Seer visions at all," Ron added, but Elizabeth just shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "Just that last dream took place after I was born. Most of them were from when Samantha was still in school. They would start so happy, but the ending was always so tragic it shed a shadow over everything before." She looked down at the pile of plucked flower petals beneath her, fighting back tears. Catching sudden sight of her fingers, she gasped loud enough to cause Professor Sprout to look up and reiterate the sound.

The professor rushed over, exclaiming, "No, no, no! This is exactly what I warned against! Did nobody tell you not to touch the petals, child? And why would you be picking apart such a valuable flower to begin with?! Just look at those fingers!"

Elizabeth didn't need to be told to look; she was already gaping at her fingertips in horror. Having absorbed the last moisture from them, the skin covering them had become so raw and chapped as to have cracked in several places, allowing patches of blood to ooze out, bright against her pale fingers.

"Don't just sit there, Miss Satine!" Sprout was crying. "Stand up and get going! I'm sending you straight back to the Infirmary!" She quickly shooed Elizabeth out the door, not looking at all sorry about doing so. It seemed to her that Madame Pomfrey had had no reason to release the girl from her care in the first place. She watched in satisfaction as Elizabeth left the greenhouse, hoping that a second trip to the hospital wing would restore more color and vibrance to the girl than the first (supposed) trip had.

***

Elizabeth was hurrying down the corridor, her hands held out at her sides so as to avoid getting blood on her robes, when a voice from a classroom up ahead reached her ear.

"She's beginning to ask questions, Albus!" 

Elizabeth stopped dead in place, a shiver running down her spine. The voice was that of Professor McGonagall, but never had Elizabeth heard her so distressed.

"Questions that we have no right to answer," Dumbledore replied calmly. 

"Then perhaps we should appeal to Sarah once more! Elizabeth knows something. She's a clever girl, and I have great doubt that she will just give this up. She almost startled the whole thing out of me the other day by suddenly asking how Samantha died. I nearly said, 'Sarah never told you about you mother?' and only caught myself just in time."

Her heart beating wildly, Elizabeth inched toward the classroom, flattening herself against the corridor wall.

There was a pause before Dumbledore spoke again. His voice was grave, and barely audible. "I don't want to talk about Samantha."

"That's just it, Albus," McGonagall replied, her tone coaxing. "No one does. Yet she deserves to hear it from someone."

"Professor Flitwick informed me she has expressed an interest in Intoned Charms."  
"Yes, but there's really no need to worry about that. No one's been able to channel the Ancient Magic for over a century."

"There are some."

"She's just a child, though."

"That doesn't mean she won't try. She knows her family was strong in that branch of magic. What's to stop her from trying to achieve such a level of power for herself?"

"Albus, I really don't think . . ."

"_You_ may not be worried, Minerva, but Flitwick is. She's abandoned her other Charms work, yet it is her favorite subject and the one in which she possesses the greatest talent. She's up to something, and I fear she may be too weak to resist the power such things have to offer. She'll waste away reaching for something she cannot possibly achieve."

"She is not weak! She's obstinate! She has a right to know about her past, and since no one will tell her, she has taken it into her own hands. She is very much like her mother."

"And that is a good thing?" There was an edge to Dumbledore's voice that induced Elizabeth to take a few steps away from the door.

Professor McGonagall sounded on the verge of tears. "Albus, you know how good Saman . . ."

"Do not let your partiality for her sister blind you to what she did!"

"But we _do not know_ what truly happened to her."

"No, and for that at least we can be grateful. I would hate to be pained even more by hearing the details of it." 

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat as the constellation-speckled robes of the Headmaster swept out of the room and down the hall. She waited long after he had rounded the corner before running the rest of the way to the hospital wing, her head pounding with what she had just heard, and her heart grateful that she had decided against sharing her dreams with anyone other than her closest friends until she found out more.

*~*~*

"Samantha!"

The girl, who was dashing down the first floor corridor, skidded to a halt at the sound of her name. She turned and swallowed hard. "Sarah?" she asked, her voice soft with surprise. She surveyed her sister before adding, with a touch more bitterness, "What do you want? I'm already late for dinner and I'd really like to get there while there are still mashed potatoes left."

Sarah walked slowly towards her, her eyes never leaving her sister's face. Samantha stared at them – what was that glittering there? Compassion? Regret? Sarah placed her hands gently on Samantha's shoulders, whispering, "Sammy, are you alright?"

The younger girl's face broke into a wide grin, and she threw her arms ecstatically around her sister in a tight hug. Upon releasing her, she answered, "I'm fine. Wonderful actually." _I have Lily, Sirius, and finally, my sister, by my side,_ she thought.

But Sarah was pulling back. "That's unfortunate," she said coldly. "Because I would've loved to think that you're just out of your mind. But if everything really is so wonderful as you say it is . . ." she paused long enough for Samantha to take a faltering step backwards. " . . . then the only conclusion is that you're just another foolish, dim-witted little teenager. I had faith in you, but my friends tried to convince me otherwise. And lo and behold, they were right." Samantha was on the cusp of crying. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling and prayed that the tears blinding her eyes wouldn't spill in front of her sister. _She always said I was nothing but a crybaby . . ._

Sarah had turned to go, but she paused after a few steps and gave her sister a considering look. "You, know, Sammy," she said, "you still have a chance to redeem yourself. Just stop acting like a bubble-headed bimbo in your blind affection for that _Sirius Black_," she pronounced the name with great distaste, "and get back to your studies. If you work hard enough, maybe you'll prove that even though you're only a Gryffindor, you still possess some of the Ravenclaw virtues our family prides. Personally, I could care less about you tramping around disgracing us, but I really do pity Mother and Grandmama. They are ever _so_ ashamed."

She flounced off, leaving Samantha to wonder why she had failed to defend herself yet again. _If Sirius were here, he'd be disappointed. He'd say I shouldn't let Sarah walk all over me like that. He'd tell me exactly what I should have said, and he'd help me prepare to face her next time. _Tears began tricking slowly down her pale cheeks. _He'd take me in his arms and tell me everything will turn out okay. He'd tell me not to listen to her, and that I'm none of those things that she said. He'd . . . _A new thought entered her mind. _But what if I _am_?!? What if I really am the disgrace of the family? What if they hate me for becoming a Gryffindor, for getting a detention, for not living up to Sarah's standard? How could I bear to see Mother's face over Christmas holidays? And why does Sarah hate Sirius so much?!? Oh, I wish I could've thought up a good retort! When will it be _my_ turn to make _her_ cry?_

Her thoughts ended abruptly as she reached the Great Hall and attempted to mask her distress with her usual sweet complacence. She glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, and, with a sigh of relief, noticed her sister wasn't there. 

Despite her wishes to hurt Sarah in return, it probably would have pained Samantha to know that Sarah was at that moment draped across her four-poster bed, sobbing into the royal blue coverlet.

*~*~*

Elizabeth, finally having convinced Madame Pomfrey that her only ailment was lack of sleep, and having promised to get more of it, was released from the hospital wing. She raced down the corridor to the Charms classroom, praying she hadn't missed too much. 

She entered to an interesting sight: The students were each set up at a desk about two meters away from small permo-cement walls (walls of the strongest kind, guaranteed to obstruct anything crazy enough to collide with them). On each desk were nearly two dozen marbles, and her classmates were practicing casting Unbreakable Charms on them. 

Elizabeth grinned. This was a charm she could do. Walking to the back of the classroom to join Hermione, she was shocked to hear Parvati yell, "Duck!" Elizabeth jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being hit in the head by an airborne marble. She scurried to her desk and stared at Hermione, bewildered.

"We're testing to see if the charm worked by throwing the marbles against the permo-cement," she explained placidly. "Professor Flitwick though it'd be more fun this way." Elizabeth glanced around, noticing only five or six thrown marbles remaining intact around the class, three of which were Hermione's. Professor Flitwick was completely occupied using charms to clean up the shattered glass littering the ground. Hermione waved her wand over a marble, said the spell, and deftly flicked the tiny ball. The wall deflected it with a dainty _clink!_ She turned to Elizabeth. "So why did you come back to class?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Hermione, what good would it be to go to the silent common room and dwell on everything that's happened? It's better to just be here with you and Harry and Ron. Besides, missing classes and creating more make-up work for myself wouldn't exactly be a good idea at the moment." 

She reached for a marble and raised her wand, poised to cast the spell. What happened next took only a matter of seconds: 

Dean, having broken the last of his marbles, reached for one of Neville's, but grabbed something else by mistake. 

Neville cried out, "My Remembrall! Dean, wait! I need that!" but was drowned out by Seamus' cry of, "C'mon, Dean! You can do it this time! Twenty-third try's the charm!" Dean charmed the ball in his hand and brought his arm back in preparation to throw. Neville, panicking, lunged himself toward Dean, hitting Elizabeth sharply across the shoulder in the process. Her marble shattered and her wand clattered to the ground as the Remembrall whipped from Dean's hand with a hearty _whoosh!_

For a second, time stood still, Neville's wailing "Nooo!" lingered in the air as every pair of eyes focused on the tiny orb hurtling inevitably toward the cement wall. There wasn't the time to think, or even to raise a wand. 

But there was time enough for Elizabeth to shout the first thing that came to her, the freezing charm she had first used the morning she'd met Hermione. "_Freglacio!_"

The ball stopped in midair and the cry ringing from Neville's throat ceased. The class remained as motionless as the Remembrall.

Finally, someone spoke, a meek comment emerging from Lavender's direction. "But, but . . . she didn't have a wand." 

A wave of panic washed over Elizabeth, and she swayed under the gaze of so many eyes. But their attention was soon directed elsewhere as the blunt thud of Professor Flitwick's body resounded from the floor. 

"He's fainted!" someone cried, and most of the class rushed to his side.

Elizabeth's eyes went wide and they met the gaze of Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who were still staring at her, with a plea for advice on what to do next. They gave her no answers, and all that could be heard from the girl was a simple, childish, "Oops . . ."

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AN: Things **will** get more interesting! I know this was just a boring transitory chapter, but the plot is going somewhere, and hopefully soon. I loved all your predictions about Sirius! I'm not going to say anything about them yet, though . . . Hopefully the meeting with him in Hogsmeade will happen next chapter. And I'll try to have more Sirius/Samantha in there, too. I was just **not** in the mood to write romance when I was working on this. Enough said. ^_^

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Shout-out to Reviewers:

I love you guys so much!!! I got 16 new reviews since posting Chapter 7 – definitely a record for me – I couldn't believe it! And do you that I've never received a single generic "Write more, this is good" review? Every single one has been helpful and/or specific! You don't know how happy you all make me!

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Lady Lanya Artemisan: *laughs* I know it's insensitive to say I'm happy I depressed you, but the fact that you like Elizabeth enough to feel bad for her is so cheering! Yeah, Sarah is pretty cruel, isn't she? She has some issues to work out. Which reminds me – I'd better not forget to write that section! Sarah's role in the story often fails to grab my attention . . . But anyway, you were first to review the chapter! Thanks for being so loyal!

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Balizabeth: I have to contradict you: I think working with totally new characters is much easier than working with those that someone else has already created. I'm definitely way too hesitant to play around with JKR's characters, cuz I'm always afraid I won't be able to do them justice. With my characters I have no one to live up to but myself! But thank you – I love hearing that people like my OCs. I'm just afraid they'll overrun the story and leave the canon characters behind! Don't worry, I'm working on fixing that. I do, however, agree that Hermione needs another girl around. After all, there's only so much understanding she can get from two guys . . . But at the moment, Elizabeth's probably more of a nuisance to her than a comfort! Feel free to steal review space for a personal bio anytime. I like to know about my reviewers, and you certainly have a more interesting life than I do ;)

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Tsukii-chan: So, are you first this time? Probably not if la reine nephrenia really did manage to break the computer. Pauvre ra-chan (I'm going to continue calling you that for awhile). When you have Internet access again, send me a stern e-mail telling me that I have to stop procrastinating doing chem homework & english essays by writing individual messages to each of my reviewers . . .

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Pinefresh: Thank you, thank you, thank you! *laughs* Your reviews are fun to read. Sorry this took so long to get up . . . I'm horrible at finding time to write fanfiction. I could never post 4 chapters so quickly like you do. But I'm trying ^_^ Thanks for setting a good example! ;)

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Bessyboo: *grins* Your reviews are fun to read, too. Loved the prediction, but that's all you're getting out of me! I'm sorry to have stopped there, but I just love cliffhangers. They make natural endings to the chapters, never mind that they drive readers insane ^_^ I'm glad you're so into this, and I hope you're having a better week than last . . .

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Cellie: Interesting? So I'm not boring you yet? Ah, merci beaucoup! I hope to fit one more big plot twist like that in, but I'm afraid readers won't like that one as much. But you never know 'til you try, right? Thank you so much for returning to read this; I love hearing your opinion :)

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Karma50: hehehe . . . I love reviews that start with the word "wow!" I'm glad you liked the Sirius/Samantha scene last chapter. Personally, I did, too, but no one else mentioned it. I put you in a trance? I love reading fanfiction that does that to me, but I never expected I'd be able to the same to someone else! So thank you! 

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Snowwolf: I can't believe you re-read the whole thing – you can't imagine how honored that makes me feel! Don't worry, I'm no history lover, either. I'm taking American History this year and am expected to have a background in it already, but I've never studied a word of it before! I can already tell I'll have problems in that class . . . There's going to be some Lily/James eventually, I just wasn't in the mood to write fluff this week. I'm planning to write a L/J fic after I finish this one, actually, but I'm a big dreamer, so I don't know if that'll really ever happen. Sarah will be mentioned more often starting, well, this chapter, actually. I haven't forgotten about her relationship with Minerva, don't worry. You get confusing dreams, too? I have about three a night. That's why I like writing Elizabeth's dreams – these ones I can at least make sense of!

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Nikki: I still can't believe you came! But aren't you glad you did? You're feeling less inferior now that you have your name in the thanks section, aren't you, dear Jane? ;) It's fun reading your reviews, cuz you know where some of this is coming from. My mom's driving, yep. I was probably annoyed at her for refusing to let me practice the day I wrote that! Scott's based on a combination of several different guys (*cough*and jock brothers*cough*) that I know. I'm thinking of bringing him back in later chapters; he's a lot of fun to write. You've fallen in love with a nonexistant guy! Unfortunately, you don't have Tessa on that level with you anymore – I think she might just be in love with a real guy this time (*gasp!*). And a prince, nonetheless! (Just teasing, Katya!) Now that you've amply apologized for not e-mailing with your wonderful praise, feel free to criticize, ok? But if you're too nasty, I'll make sure everyone knows, from Georgianna herself, your low connections in life! (A threat regarding a make-believe fact. Scary, non?)

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The-fairies-midwife: What a cool penname! MWPP = Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs, in other words: the Marauder time period. Ah, a fellow procrastinator! That's what I'm doing right now by writing these thank-you notes, although I honestly didn't think it would take this long . . . I'm going to be up late tonight writing my english paper & deciphering my chem lab *sigh* But then again, you probably procrastinated even longer by reading the whole story at once. I'm impressed. And extremely flattered. And now to return (or attempt to do so, anyway) the happiness you gave to me. Time for my good deed of the day ^_^ : 

*****IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR AN INTERESTING READ, TRY THE-FAIRIES-MIDWIFE'S ORIGINAL STORY! Tsukii-chan & I are the only reviewers so far, but she definitely deserves more! Just click on her name in my reviews!*****

Oceansun: Don't put yourself down – of course your characters seem real! The question is – do mine? Thanks for all your praise & enthusiasm. It's so uplifting to find someone interested enough to read a 7-chapter story from the beginning. It'll probably be awhile 'til you reach this chapter though . . . I'm looking forward to seeing more reviews from you! ;)

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VyingQuill: Thanks to you above everyone! Your comments are so helpful & constructive! I think I love reading your reviews above all others! I love all your questions, too. Most of them will be answered later in the story, but I can mention a few now. No, Elizabeth's not French, but she learned it as a little girl from her mother (who learned it as a child in Europe), so she often randomly uses French expressions. And, no, that's not unlikely. I'm American through & through, but I do exactly the same thing! Thanks for commenting on the things you like – it's just as helpful to know what I do well as it is to know what desperately needs improvement. "Her laughter rang like bells . . ." I love that old saying, too. I deserve hundreds of reviews for this? I was grinning for hours after reading that. Of course, I would love that, but I'm still in shock that I've managed to get this many! Thank you so much once again!


	9. Puzzled Glances, Desperate Stares

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Disclaimer: Why do I keep adding these every chapter? Just check out any chapter from 1-6 from now on if it means something to you.

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AN: I have a list of things I need to do:

1: Express my utter astonishment at all the new reviewers who've picked up this story from the beginning and read all the way through. I was pleased before, but the sudden success of this has completely taken me aback. I can't tell you how many times I've just sat staring at my Stats page, thinking, "I have five new reviews? In just 2 days?!" in a daze, before even going to read the reviews themselves. So thank you to all the new reviewers since I posted Chapter 7: Vying Quill, nikki, the-fairies-midwife, oceansun, Torrential Zephyr, T.H, and googleduckie. And of course, thanks to all my dear old faithful reviewers ^_^

2: Thank everyone who commented that Dumbledore was out of character last chapter! I would have been concerned if no one had picked that up! There's a reason he's acting that way, and I get into it somewhat in this chapter. It's going to be a challenge, but I'm trying to show that even Dumbledore can't be perfectly complacent all the time. There must be things that hurt him, too! I'm going to need reader support & suggestions on this, or at least patience.

3: Thanks to the-fairies-midwife, I will no longer be apologizing for the length of my chapters. Whether they're long or short shouldn't matter, as long as they reach the point. On that note, I'm also not going to tell you whether I think the chapter is well or poorly written anymore. Why would you want my opinion – you should decide! 

From this point on, my beginning Author's Notes will _not_ be so long. All I'm doing is detaining you from reading (which you're finally allowed to commence doing now . . .)

~ Thank you! WhetherRose.

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Chapter Nine: Puzzled Glances, Desperate Stares

After Lavender ran from the Charms classroom in search of Madame Pomfrey, the remaining Gryffindor students rested standing motionless, unsure of what to do, and unsure of what had really happened. Dean had thrown Neville's Remembrall, Elizabeth had stopped it without a wand, and Professor Flitwick lay sprawled on the cold classroom floor. Beyond these simple facts, none of the students, aside from the four standing off to one side, could make any further guesses or connections.

Hermione's hands were frozen over her mouth, her eyes wide, and her face white. Harry and Ron glanced nervously at Elizabeth. They had listened faithfully to her narrative of discovering Intoned Charms, but this concrete proof of what they had taken as something of an embellished fairy-tale was a little unnerving. Elizabeth stood firmly rooted in place, but the fluttering of the hands at her sides was increasing steadily in magnitude. After a few seconds she was shaking so violently that Hermione's eyes were drawn away from the prostrate Flitwick. Elizabeth met her gaze; both girls nodded and left the room without a word.

They entered the hall and walked quickly away. As soon as they had rounded the corner, Elizabeth sagged against the wall, every bit of energy drained from her. "From performing the Charm?" Hermione asked, her voice just above a whisper. 

"From everything," Elizabeth replied softly, clasping her hands together and widening her eyes to keep the tears from spilling out. "The lack of sleep, this obsession with Intoning Charms, falling behind in all my work, Harry asking me to stop coming to Quidditch practice, finding . . . finding out about . . . about Saman . . . about my mother. And that my life has been a lie. And now Professor Flitwick, and Dumbledore is bound to hear about it and, and . . ." It was no use. Despite her brave attempts to keep them at bay, the tears trickled out. Elizabeth sank to the ground, her head in her knees in a sign of defeat. "I wish I'd never become a witch in the first place. I wish I were back in Connecticut living a normal life never questioning the people claiming to be my parents."

Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She had never been happier since the arrival of Elizabeth, and a friend of her own gender to communicate with, but this relationship was beginning to be more exhausting than her friendship with Ron, bickering and all. "You would rather be living a lie to avoid all this?"

"Ignorance is bliss," the girl muttered from between her arms. Somehow Hermione couldn't quite believe Elizabeth meant it. "Shall we head back to the Tower?" she asked.

"What good would that do? Dumbledore will be able to find and expel me no matter where we hide. Why expend the effort to move?"

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. _Now what?_ She was startled to see Harry and Ron silently appear at Elizabeth's sides. Gently, they each hoisted one of the girl's arms around their shoulders and began their progress down the hall, nodding to Hermione to follow.

The silent procession up to Gryffindor Tower took nearly fifteen minutes, but each of the four students were so absorbed in their own thoughts that they barely registered the time. When they had finally lain Elizabeth, by now deep in troubled sleep, on the couch in the common room, the remaining three stood around her, staring in solemn silence.

Harry finally spoke. "What was that she was saying about Dumbledore?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied. "She was delirious."

"Just look at her," Ron observed, amazed. "She was so full of life when we first met her and now she's wasted away to practically nothing."

"She's suffered a great blow."

The drawn look on Elizabeth's face stirred a stark recollection of someone else in Harry's mind. "Maybe she'll cheer up tomorrow when we take her to Hogsmeade to meet Sirius. You know, make her forget all this for awhile."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, but Ron just looked at Harry with concern. "I don't think that's such a good idea," he murmured.

"Why not?" Hermione asked quickly.

Ron shook his head. "Later," he said, and retreated to his dormitory without another word.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she exchanged a questioning glance with Harry. Neither knowing what else could be done, they carefully lifted Elizabeth, carrying her gently to her four-poster and placing her under the covers. Then they returned to see if anything could be down to smooth over the inevitable mayhem in the Charms corridor.

*~*~*

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. The sixth year Gryffindor students had relatively little homework assigned for the weekend, and the bright sun filtered in through the windows of Gryffindor Tower on a small group of them chatting merrily about the day's Hogsmeade trip. For one morning at least, Samantha was able to push the memory of her dreadful confrontation with Sarah a few nights ago far from her mind, and settle back into her comfort zone, passionately extolling Sirius' every virtue to Lily, who listened with amusement and envy at her friend's merry enthusiasm.

That afternoon found Samantha, Lily, and Sirius seated at a table in the Three Broomsticks sipping lightly at their mugs of butterbeer. James, Peter, and Remus were scheduled to meet up with them any minute. Although it was supposed to be Sirius and Samantha's first date, the two had long forgotten this and were just as happy to have their friends there for lunch with them. If anyone were to inform Samantha that she and Sirius had only been a couple for one week, she would have laughed in disbelief. The two fit so naturally together, that when asked how long Samantha and Sirius had been dating, their friends would automatically answer, "Oh, it's always been this way." 

To say this was their first date (as was originally planned), would be laughable. They had hardly parted company since Sirius' confession a week earlier. Yet their instant relationship was still a common topic of conversation among the six, especially with Lily, who struggled to hide the jealousy she felt towards her best friend who had managed to find a boyfriend when Lily herself had not. 

Lily was once again pointing out how lucky her friend was when Sirius commented, "You know, it amazes me that I got up the courage to ask out a girl when James hasn't even asked out . . ." He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on Lily, and suddenly decided it best to say no more.

"When James hasn't asked out who, Sirius?" Samantha asked curiously. 

Sirius quickly tore his gaze from Lily and muttered, "No one. No one at all. Just forget I mentioned it." He began fiddling nervously with his mug of butterbeer. 

Lily's face broke into a broad smile. Samantha started giggling. "It's not Lily, is it?" she asked.

"No!" Sirius was quick to respond. But his eyes widened.

"I knew it!" Lily cried ecstatically. "James Potter has a crush on me!"

"I never said that!" Sirius protested. But it was of little use. 

Both girls were laughing like mad now, and Samantha was gasping between giggles, "High and mighty . . . James . . . Potter . . . head over heels . . . for . . . for . . ." She desperately tried to gain control of her laughter. Lily finished for her, "For ME!" And the two girls collapsed back in their chairs, rocking with mirth. Sirius muttered something under his breath, and his head sank into his arms on the table.

After a minute, the giggles subsided, and Lily, taking a deep breath, said, "You know, I never thought of James as the type to fall for someone. He always seems so independent. I feel so . . ." she paused, searching for the right word, "so _powerful_. Me, Lily Evans, holding sway over Potter's heart. Ah, think of all the doors that opens . . . Why, I could have James begging for me on his knees . . . " her voice sounded wistful. "This could be fun!" She caught Samantha's eyes, and it took all her will power to keep from bursting into laughter again.

Sirius sighed. "All it takes is one pretty girl and suddenly I'm betraying my friend's most guarded secrets . . ."

Samantha looked at the boy with raised eyebrows. "One pretty girl?" Sirius, realizing his mistake, began to protest, but Lily cut him off.

"Well, Mr. Black," she enunciated, her eyes glittering playfully, "If I were you, I would prepare to defend yourself. Because apparently you think either Miss Satine or myself isn't good-looking, and in either case, whether you're insulting me, or whether you're insulting my friend, you're going to have an angry Lily Evans to deal with." Lily stood up and pulled out her wand. Samantha joined her, highly amused by the look of terror in Sirius' eyes.

At that moment, Remus and Peter entered the pub. "Uh oh, what'd you do now, Sirius?" Remus asked upon seeing his fellow Marauder held at wand-point. 

"Why, he only insulted Lily and me," Samantha said, giving Sirius a berating look.

Remus stifled a laugh. "Well, then, allow me to help you punish him." 

"Me, too," joined in an amused Peter. The two boys took up a position next to the girls, and pulled out their wands. Sirius was motionless, frozen in terror.

Lily looked to her best friend, "So, Sam, what curse shall we try this time?" 

But Samantha's eyes had wandered to the image of Peter, standing with his wand pointed straight at Sirius. She felt a sudden wave of sickness wash over her, and she dropped her wand weakly on the table. Lily put her wand away quickly, and stepped over to her friend. "Samantha?" She whispered so no one else could hear, "Another one of those feelings?"

Samantha took a deep breath to get rid of her unanticipated nausea. "I'm not sure," she sighed, "But I'm okay." 

Peter and Remus, sensing the time for joking around had died, made their way to the bar to order some butterbeer. Lily, after another concerned glance at her friend, joined them.

Letting out a long sigh of relief, Sirius got up and made his way over to Samantha. Putting his arms around her shoulders he said, "Thanks for saving me there. I know how much you adore cursing the infamous Marauders, so you must really love me to have stopped that." He gave her his characteristic charming smile, but it faded when he saw the look in her eyes. "You alright?" 

Samantha was quiet for a minute before hugging him closer to herself. "Just don't ever leave me, okay?"

Although slightly confused, Sirius murmured, "I promise."

*~*~*

"But you promised!"

"I know I did! But I honestly thought I'd be feeling well enough to go when I agreed to join you. And I'm just . . . not. Please don't force me."

Hermione's look was determined and unwavering. 

"Oh, all right!" Elizabeth conceded. 

She grabbed her coat and stormed out the door, Hermione watching with her arms folded obstinately across her chest. "It should _not_ be this difficult to convince someone to come to Hogsmeade," Hermione muttered, picking up her own jacket and following Elizabeth.

The rest of Friday (day of "the Charms incident," as several students had already labeled it) had passed relatively smoothly, excepting the numerous whispers that had followed Elizabeth in the Great Hall during the evening's meal. After her afternoon nap, she had appeared to be recovering, and Hermione, Harry, and Ron had been able to convince her to join them in Hogsmeade the next day for a little "chat" at the Three Broomsticks, which Ron seemed especially serious about. But when Hermione crept up to their dorm to awake Elizabeth Saturday morning, she'd been greeted with a tragic moan, "But, Hermione! I don't feel well enough to go!" although Hermione suspected this wasn't Elizabeth's true reason for wanting a day alone in Gryffindor Tower. She hadn't missed the roll of parchment and quill Elizabeth had hastily shoved under her pillow upon Hermione's entrance.

Nevertheless, an hour later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth were seated comfortably around a table in the Three Broomsticks, looking up eagerly as Madam Rosmerta brought over four overflowing mugs of Butterbeer.

"So, Ron," Hermione started, wrapping her hands around her beverage and savoring its warmth. "What was it you wanted to say?"

Ron hesitated, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Harry and Elizabeth. "I . . . well, I wouldn't be mentioning this right now, I mean, I'd wait until the first shock wore off some, but considering who Harry wants to meet and all, I figure I ought to tell you . . ."

"Yes?" Hermione's eyes sparkled with impatience, but Ron just gulped.

"It's okay, Ron," Elizabeth soothed. "It'll be a long time before the shock wears down at all, so you might as well tell me. The longer you keep it a secret, the more it'll hurt when I finally find out. After all, if I'd been told earlier who my real mother was, it wouldn't have been so painful." Ron bit his lip. "It's about my family, right? What you were talking about the day you made me catch the Snitch?" The mention of this eased a smile onto Elizabeth's face. Ron just nodded. "Well, then," she said, "I have a right to know."

Ron wasn't looking at Elizabeth, though; his gaze was riveted on Harry. "I don't think we should see Snuffles," he said finally. Elizabeth snorted into her butterbeer; Harry looked up in surprise.

"Why not?" Harry demanded. He had been anticipating the meeting to calm his nerves, and he'd hoped Sirius would have the same effect on Elizabeth. He figured that while she didn't know him, he may have known Samantha (through research they'd discovered that Sirius and Samantha had been in the same year and same house together), and would perhaps be able to tell Elizabeth something about the mother she'd never known.

"I don't think he'll take well to Elizabeth, that's all," Ron muttered. 

A confused expression crossed Elizabeth's face, and Hermione leaned in to whisper, "Snuffles is our code name for Sirius." 

Comprehension dawned on Elizabeth's face; she had heard the entire account of Sirius Black the night before. "Why wouldn't he like me? He doesn't even know me. He probably hardly knew my mother either," she commented.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he knew her." The way Ron said it made all three heads snap up and gaze at him intently. He continued quietly. "I don't know the details; I never really paid much attention to it at the time, but I remember it because the name 'Satine' used to be really famous in the wizarding world." 

This was news to the other three, none of whom had had the wizarding upbringing Ron did. "They were a very powerful family; it was said they were descended of the great Queen Ellianne, Sorceress of the Ancient Magic. They fought tirelessly on the side of the good during the Dark Lord's reign, and it was said that a Satine could never do evil, for the very blood of the old magic ran throw her veins. 

"When Samantha Satine disappeared (the eyes of the other three widened) a few years before the fall of You-Know-Who, it was feared that the Dark Lord was finally going to attempt to wipe out the Satine family. The rest of them continued fighting while in hiding. It was the biggest mystery, though: You-Know-Who never made a second attempt at harming the family, and Samantha was found murdered two years later with no clue as to who did it or why. They investigated it for years; Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, and the sister, Sarah Satine, were especially desperate to find out what had happened, but after awhile it just disappeared from the news."

Elizabeth sat for a moment, trying to absorb what she'd heard, wondering why Ron had been so hesitant to divulge the information.

Hermione looked confused. "So?"

"So," Ron emphasized, "people dismissed the case as the mysterious tragedy of a young woman's disappearance. I wasn't alive then; I didn't hear about it until years later when I was visiting the Ministry with my dad. It was around the time that rumors began to surface that Samantha Satine hadn't been kidnapped by the dark side during her disappearance, as was suggested, after all, but that . . . that she had willingly turned traitor and joined them."

"What?!" Hermione cried emphatically. "Do they have proof?"  
"I think so, but I'm not exactly sure what. All I know are the rumors," Ron finished weakly.

"So why can't Elizabeth see Sirius?"

"The thing is," Ron looked carefully at Harry once again. "Samantha was linked to the deaths of the Potters through some connection with Sirius Black."

"But Sirius is innocent."

"Which makes it worse for her, doesn't it? Because then she wouldn't have been working _with_ him, but working to help _destroy_ him. And she certainly accomplished that."

"You – you can't seriously believe that?" Hermione gawked at Ron's solemn face.

"I thought you said my family _couldn't _do evil, because of the connection with the Ancient Magic," Elizabeth reminded him.

"That's what was believed. Until Samantha. That's why the discovery was such a big one."

"And that's why Dumbledore seemed so reluctant to talk about her," Elizabeth murmured.

"What?" The other three asked.

"Nothing, I just sort of overhead Dumbledore and McGonagall talking. McGonagall seemed to want to tell me about Samantha, but Dumbledore refused to talk about her."

"That doesn't sound like Dumbledore at all," Harry said, gazing at Elizabeth thoughtfully.

"I was surprised," Elizabeth admitted. "But if he truly thinks she tried to corrupt Sirius Black and played a hand in murdering . . ." she trailed off, unable to say 'your parents' to Harry, finishing, "then no wonder he was upset."

"You'd think he'd tell you the truth, though."

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" Elizabeth closed her eyes in thought, and immediately could see the image of the long-haired, blue-eyed woman in her mind's eye, cold and shivering, her hair wild and disheveled in the wind, standing on a doorstep. The door opened and a beautiful woman, with flowing red hair and sparkling green eyes, appeared, the warm color in her cheeks a stark contrast to the white face of the person huddled on her porch. The red-haired woman gasped. A smile lit her face, and tears appeared in her eyes, as she embraced her visitor tightly. "I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered, and both women laughed joyously as they clung to eachother, the wind whipping their hair in a frenzied dance. The red-haired woman turned to go in, pulling her guest in behind her, and as she stepped inside, a man was visible hovering in the room, rooted to the spot at the sight of the newcomer's face, and choking out a whispered, "Samantha?"

Elizabeth shook her head to free it of the thought. "Let's go see Sirius," she said decidedly. "I don't care whether what he has to say is good or bad; I just want to find out what he knows." She rose and the others followed, Harry and Hermione with a similar air of determination, Ron with a worried reluctance.

***

Dumbledore paced his office, lines of worry etched across his wise, old face as his mind pondered the information he'd received yesterday afternoon. Professor Flitwick adamantly claimed to have seen Elizabeth Satine perform an Intoned Charm. But that was impossible, wasn't it? He himself had proclaimed it so to Professor McGonagall the other day. Of course he knew the power of the Ancient Magic ran through the veins of all Satines – it was a part of their history, their heritage – but the power was diminishing. Certainly no one could harness it these days. 

He sat down heavily, and a memory hit him with such force that for a moment he was overwhelmed. The words of that day so long ago still rang in his ears with fresh pain. _"But, Albus! We have proof! You can't declare her innocence any longer! She willingly joined him, and went against her old friends. There's no more denying it!" _He shook his head, furious with himself for having pushed that thought to the back of his brain and having forgotten to empty it into his Penseive. 

He did so now, and sat back, rubbing his temples. How long he had fought to prove her innocence! It had taken him years to submit to the obvious. Why did Minerva have to bring this up again? Didn't she know the pain it inspired? Didn't she realize how the faith of anyone, even that of kind, wise, patient Dumbledore, could be shattered by such a complete and shocking break of trust? "_We believe she played a part in the plotting of the Potters' murders." _To hear such words, let alone being forced to give in to them as truth, caused such anguish and distress in the old wizard's heart that he had repressed the memory, fearing that lingering on it might cause him to lose faith in the other young witches and wizards he had such high hopes for.

But Elizabeth . . . did she really deserve to know? "Of course she does!" he chastised himself aloud. "Every child had the right to know its parents!" But that was out of his hands. It had taken such an effort to track down Sarah Satine once she had disappeared with Elizabeth after Samantha's murder that he was not going to risk losing Elizabeth now. Sarah had kept her niece away from the wizarding world to protect the girl from certain facts. If she heard that Dumbledore was divulging all those secrets, she would certainly snatch the child away from Hogwarts. And that would not be a good thing, especially if what Flitwick claimed was true . . .

Looking up from his desk, Dumbledore caught sight of Fawkes, staring at him with a quizzical expression, head cocked to the side, feathers ruffled. The bird trebled softly, one high, clear note, and the great wizard's mind lapsed suddenly from his distressing line of thinking to the memory of a little girl . . .

__

"Oh, Professor! He's gorgeous! What's his name?"

Dumbledore smiled. "His name is Fawkes, and he looks mighty pleased with that roll you're feeding him, but I'm sure he won't mind if you come sit down and talk to me for awhile. That is why you're here, isn't it?"

The girl blushed, and made her way over to a big, cushiony chair, sinking down into it. 

"Now how may I help you, Miss Satine?" Dumbledore asked kindly. He looked over the girl with an amused grin – Minerva had told him the child had specifically requested a meeting with the Headmaster. How extraordinarily bold of a first year!

"You see," she said, twisting a curl of light brown hair around her finger, "I need my sister Sarah to be moved from Ravenclaw to Gryffindor."

"Ah, I see."

"Yes! At first I wanted to got to Ravenclaw with her, but I figure that then I'd have to leave Lily, and we all know I could never do that!"

"And why is that?"

"She's Muggle-born, Professor, Sir! She needs help in the wizarding world! But I need the help of my sister! We've always been together – you can't separate us now!"

Dumbledore tried to keep his face serious, but it was difficult under the gaze of such a bubbly eleven-year-old. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Satine. Your sister's house has been chosen for her, as has yours, and you must both remain where you have been placed."  
She gave an over-dramatized sigh. "Very well. I thought you'd say that. I have to go to class now, but I'll be back tomorrow to discuss this again! We'll get there eventually!" And before the Headmaster could say a word, she skipped out of the room with a smile and a wave.

It had taken five such meetings before Samantha Satine had finally decided she was happy with things as they were, but ever since that day, Dumbledore held a special place in his heart for the endearing little girl. If only that was the way he could remember Samantha now, without the stain of future deeds . . . What was that McGonagall had said about Elizabeth? _"She's like her mother. Not weak – obstinate!" _ Well, that much was certainly true. But although everything he'd heard about her had recommended Elizabeth Satine to him, he was afraid. Afraid of once again watching a beloved student betray, shame, murder . . .

"Samantha," he whispered, "how could you do this to us?"

***

Sirius, alone in his cave on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, was thinking about the same girl, visions of her flitting through his mind too quickly to catch. Samantha, smirking as he got in trouble; Samantha, eyes sparkling as she laughed with Lily; Samantha, racing through the corridors, hair flying, trying to get to class on time; Samantha, patiently teaching Remus how to do Charms that most students could never manage. Samantha, catching his eye in the middle of a lesson; blowing him a kiss from her seat in the stands as he soared high above the Quidditch pitch; catching up to him on the grounds on a winter day, cheeks flushed and out of breath, just to say hi. Samantha, glowing with the excitement of graduation; kissing him in front of the whole school; dancing with her head on his shoulder under the stars. 

Samantha, leaning over a baby's crib, her long, silky hair glistening in the candlelight as she lowered herself down to peck the baby girl on her soft forehead. Hovering there, right above the child, returning the baby's wondering glance, and smiling with a joy long absent from her face. 

She looked up to find Sirius' eyes fixed as wonderingly on her as her own were fixed on the baby. For a minute, they held the gaze, and about three thousand different things burst from their hearts, longing to be said aloud. But Samantha turned away. She walked to the window and let the curtains fall gently closed. When she turned around again, the sparkle in her eyes had dimmed, died away.

"She'll never have the life she deserves," she whispered.

Sirius took a step forward. "We can give her one just as good." He took another step, intending to embrace her, to hold her, after all this long time . . .

But her eyes were so filled with pain that he stopped. "No, Siri," she whispered. "No. You don't understand . . ."

"No," Sirius repeated, staring blankly at the rock wall before him. "I don't understand. I'll never understand . . ."

"Sirius?" A hesitant voice called into the cave.The vision of the beautiful young woman, soft curls framing a face smiling down at a precious baby, vanished from his mind's eye as he turned to face the present.

Sirius looked up to see his godson in the entrance, and with him, Ron, Hermione, and – his heart stopped mid-beat – the baby girl, all grown up.

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AN: This chapter was actually completed Monday, only four days after I posted the previous chapter. I wasn't able to post it til now cuz it was yet un-edited and I had an awful week of exams, homework, ect, but my point is that all your wonderful reviews of the last chapter not only inspired me (they always do), but made such an impact on me that I finished the next chapter in about a quarter of the time it usually takes me! So here you go, it's time consuming, but you all deserve individual thanks: (and if you hate cliffhangers, read the message to Bessyboo)

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Tsukii-chan: Too tired to capitalize? Been there . . . nearly there at the moment, actually. Why do I always insist on posting these after midnight. Ah, well, c'est vendredi, I'm okay. Besides, I figure it's way earlier in California, so even if I collapse immediately after posting this, you'll still be up for awhile & might read it. Did you see the reviews I left? Those will have to count as my e-mail for today. A demain!

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Torrential Zephyr: You have made me SO happy. Seriously. Ten reviews for eight chapters . . . *laughs* you've definitely out-reviewed everyone else! I love your comments – they're helpful, cheering, specific – everything I could ask for! We must think alike – it seems like the things you like most are the things I most enjoyed writing. Chapter four especially. Yeah, it would've been fun to make this Ron/Elizabeth. I actually played with the idea for awhile, but finally decided against it. I think I've done enough by inserting my own characters. Toying with the canon character's emotions with OCs seems a little cruel. Except for Hermione – I think she really needed some female companionship. I love all your predictions and reactions. Seeing people that into this fic makes me almost giddy ^_^ You will e-mail me when you update yours, right? Here's the chapter I promised you, now I'm waiting for yours . . . Just kidding – no pressure! But I'm eager all the same :) Thank you, thank you, thank you!

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Snowwolf: *Pats snowwolf on head* It only took one day over a week to update this time – hopefully that will spare you from having to re-read the previous chapters this time? Just trying to spare your history grade ^_^ Ah, you realized that part of Sarah's bizarre behavior is due to peer pressure! Yeah, Lizzy's getting sick too often. She's beginning to bother me – being so weak. This is the last chapter she's like that. Next chapter she regains strength, simply because I can't stand her being whiny anymore (although she does have fair reason . . .) But of course! Cuddle her all you want! She could definitely use it! And from such a sweet wolf, too ^_^ And don't worry, Albus & Minerva will both be restored to greater kindness in later chapters. Things are just . . . complicated . . . at present.

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Karma50: Sarah & Sam . . . yep, some definite problems there. That's going to be challenging to write. Glad you like the Intoned Charms. I'm really hoping that this method of wandless magic has more substance to it than some of the ways I've seen. I love writing it, I just hope readers don't think it's too unrealistic. You know—you and tsukii-chan are the only reviewers who have been with me since I posted chapter 1, and have faithfully & immediately reviewed each new chapter. Thanks for sticking with me! It means so much to me!

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The-fairies-midwife: I hope people don't brand Elizabeth as evil, either! She doesn't deserve it, after all she's been through! (What am I talking about – I'm the author! I can do whatever I want!) Thanks for being constructive as well as sweet. It means a lot to me. I'll try to do the same for you ^_^ And I loved your last comment . . . how do I get so lucky to find such kind reviewers?

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Bessyboo: This is not technically a cliff-hanger! I swear! *dodges Bessyboo's rants* Basically, you know what will happen next chapter – Elizabeth, Harry, Ron & Hermione will meet & talk with Sirius. Simple enough, right? I apologize for rubbing your prediction in your face. I honestly would have told you if it was right, but the fact is, Sirius is not Elizabeth's father, however much I'd like that to be. Wait, I should restate that: Sirius is not _technically_ Elizabeth's father. Now you're curious . . . (Anyone who's reading this & is suddenly furious that I spoiled it for you, you would've found this out the first paragraph of the next chapter anyway.) You have to remember – something happened to Samantha that is still unknown. She was gone 2 years, and a lot can happen in that time. Being Sirius' girlfriend while in school doesn't guarantee anything. (Actually, your prediction is extremely close, and would've been right on if I hadn't changed the plot last second). But that doesn't mean Sam/Sirius fluff will disappear! Plenty more on the way! Lastly, thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt regarding the flaws in my portrayal of Dumbledore last chapter. You're right: I have a reason for it, it's proving that reason that'll be the real challenge . . . ;)

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Nikki: I seriously considered trying out for the school musical today while I was helping my friend practice her audition lines, but then I remembered: I can't sing! So I came home and decided to finally post this chapter. If I can't be on-stage, I might as well stick to writing . . . Elizabeth isn't in trouble, don't worry. Despite Dumbledore's uncharacteristic harshness last chapter, he won't react that way towards Elizabeth. _She_ didn't hurt him; Samantha did. And Sarah . . . well, more of her soon. She'll sort some things out eventually. You hate suspense? But oh, I LOVE keeping you in suspense . . . *dons infamous Princess Evil grin that hasn't been worn since 8th grade*

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T.H: I never realized that – I guess I am balancing three storylines at once! I never really considered Sarah as a separate story, but you're right, she certainly is ^_^ I get all teary-eyed whenever you say you're interested in finding out what happened/ will happen to my characters, and think, "Really?" You've made my day. Between you & googleduckie I received 9 reviews in one day. I'm still in disbelief over that. I pity the poor person whose fanfic I read just after reading those reviews – I think I gushed about my shock for at least half of the review I left!

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Googleduckie: When/if you update your fanfic (or start a new one), let me know, ok? I honestly loved it (as if you can't guess from my reviews), and I'm ecstatic that you like this! Especially since I value your opinion so highly after reading your work. *grins* You use fanfiction to procrastinate English homework, too? I think it's great for that purpose – in a way you're doing even more productive English work by reading & reviewing stories. Wish my teacher would realize that . . . Yay! Someone finally commented on the truth or dare scene! I loved writing that, but no one ever really mentioned it in a review before! And you've realized part of the reason why Sarah left the wizarding world . . . I'm impressed :) Thanks again – I'm still amazed you read the whole thing in one night!

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	10. Plots, Pranks, and Perfect Results

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AN: I'm back! Are you shocked? *sighs* I haven't been having the best time lately, but I think finally updating this will help immensely. Thank you so, so much to all the sweet people who sent me e-mails and wrote extra reviews full of wonderful support. You can't imagine how cheering that was. In gratitude, this chapter is just for you, combining the suggestions I've read repeatedly in reviews, meaning it is: 1) primarily in Marauder time, 2) packed with Sam/Sirius, L/J fluff, 3) reasonably long, and 4) and does not end on a cliffhanger. See how obvious it is I love you all? Enjoy! (And beware, I am _not_ an experienced fluff writer . . .)

Also, I skipped out on extensive editing this chapter as I frankly don't have the time at the moment, so if parts don't connect, just let me know, cuz I'll probably be re-reading this to perfect it later. 

And since it's been awhile: we left off with Elizabeth, Harry, Hermione & Ron entering Sirius' Hogsmeade refuge . . .

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Chapter Ten: Plots, Pranks, and Perfect Results

For a moment, Sirius felt overwhelmed as wave upon wave of emotions came crashing down on him. Memories flooded back, more real and tangible than ever –

__

"What? No kiss good-night?"

"We're back that fast, are we?"

"Not me, silly. The baby."

"Oh."

"Have you ever seen eyes so full of innocence and beauty?"

"Yes."

"Sirius! Work with me here!"

"Can I help it if her mother is ten times as beautiful?"

"Sirius, don't."

"You know she gets it all from you, Sammy."

"I'm not innocent."

"Now don't even start with that agai –"

"Let's not talk about this right now."

"Too late."

"If you promise to leave it for the night, you can have a kiss . . ."

"Done."

". . . from the baby."

"Samantha!"

Laughter.

"God, Sammy! I miss you!" Sirius muttered agitatedly, pounding a fist into his hand.

"What?"

Sirius blinked, suddenly remembering where he was. "Harry! I've missed you!" he amended, rushing forward and embracing his godson. "Where have you been? It's lonely here by myself." He was looking at Harry, but the image of Elizabeth remained fixed in the corner of his eye. _By myself_, he thought, _with too many memories_.

Harry pulled away. "What are you talking about Sirius? You're always warning me _not_ to visit you. You said it's not safe."

Sirius straightened under the boy's quizzical regard. "Yes! Of course! It's much too dangerous! I can't believe you came this weekend; you should be enjoying yourself in Hogsmeade! Don't you know better than to risk yourself like this?" Harry, now thoroughly puzzled, just stared. "And bringing guests, too! I'm surprised at you, Harry!" Sirius attempted to cast Elizabeth a suspicious look, but failed miserably. He looked away before tears could form.

Luckily, no one had noticed. Harry forgot his godfather's strange behavior as he jumped into explanation. "This is our friend Elizabeth. She just transferred to Hogwarts this year. You can trust her; we told her the whole story and she really wanted to meet you."

"She did?"

Elizabeth trembled slightly as all attention was suddenly focused on her. "I, well . . ." _I want to know about my mother!_ her heart cried, but she knew she couldn't say that. The four of them had discussed it on the way to the cave – no one in the wizarding world besides Dumbledore and McGonagall, it seemed, knew that Samantha Satine had given birth to a daughter before her death. Everyone believed Elizabeth to be Sarah's by birth. Sirius might be suspicious if she claimed to be Samantha's child. And, as Ron had pointed out, being related to Samantha might not bring Elizabeth into Sirius' best graces, if he had heard the same rumors Ron had. But what if she tested him anyway? "My mother went to Hogwarts around the time you did," she said cautiously.

Sirius quailed under the words. _Her mother . . . how am I ever going to survive this meeting? _he thought. His mind raced – _Sarah took her in when Sammy . . . left . . . and if I know Sarah, she wouldn't have said a word . . ._

Pretending to analyze the girl, he asked, "You must be Sarah Satine's little girl, right? I remember hearing that she married a Muggle and had a daughter, and you definitely look like a Satine."

It was what she had expected, but Elizabeth still felt bitter disappointment at his words. She had half-hoped that he might know the truth, that she could have had someone to talk to. She nodded mutely, and Sirius felt his heart break. So she didn't know the truth. He had guessed as much, but what a comfort it might have been to talk to his little girl about the woman they both loved! Perhaps he should tell her. She had a right to know, after all. _But you don't have the right to tell her, _he reminded himself bitterly, _no matter how much you wish it were true, she's not _your _daughter. You can't pretend she is._ He gave his head a vigorous shake.

"Sarah was always a . . . dedicated girl," he said, faltering slightly. He had wanted to say 'sweet girl,' but the image of Samantha in tears over a sister rivalry was firm in his mind. "She was in Ravenclaw, and a year above me, but I remember her being a prefect." Elizabeth nodded. She didn't seem very interested. "Her sister Samantha was in my class, though," Sirius rushed on, unable to help himself. He nearly cursed aloud. _Idiot! You'll give yourself away!_

But Elizabeth's sudden interest spurred him on. "Was she? Aun . . . I mean, Mom never told me much about her. What was she like?"

He felt like a teenager all over again. Suddenly transported back to those carefree days at Hogwarts, before Voldemort, before James and Lily and Samantha left, before Azkaban, before he'd had anything bigger to worry about than how to avoid falling in love with Samantha Satine. Sitting down on the ground, he became vibrant and animated, fed by the bright eagerness gleaming from the eyes of the girl who settled down across from him, hanging on his every word. 

"I didn't know her too well in the beginning," he began, warning himself to remain impartial to his subject and not let his true 

feelings shine through, "but it's not like you could go without noticing her. Samantha was something else, I tell you. And of course, she was Lily Potter's best friend, so when Lily and James started becoming closer, I saw more of Samantha . . ." 

He was off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat close to Elizabeth, just as eager to hear the stories and absorb as much of this new, happier version of Sirius as possible. All four teenagers were soon entranced. They were the perfect audience – laughing at the descriptions of successful pranks played on the unsuspecting Lily and Samantha, grinning when the girls got revenge, basking in the warmth of Hogsmeade weekends gone by, shivering in delight at midnight escapades.

"James hated her at first, you know. He says it was because she always foiled his schemes, but I think it's because he was jealous of all the time she spent with Lily," Sirius broke off and chuckled. "I remember this one time, we had just left a particularly hard Transfiguration class, when James and I met the girls in the hall. James, of course, had done the task in class perfectly, he was always great at Transfiguration, but Samantha had accidentally caused an uproar when she transfigured the flowers we were working with into these huge hideous bats instead of butterflies. Of course, James, who was jealous of her ability in Charms, was thrilled. It was in fifth year, and we (well James, Lily, Sam and Remus, anyway) were all competing for the grades to become prefects the next year. So James couldn't let it go when 'Perfect-Princess-Sam-Satine' messed up. Of course, I was always up for a little fun.

"We were in the hall just outside of class when he cried, 'Hey, Satine!' and she and Lil turned around with the most murderous glares. She said, 'Don't you say a word, Potter, or you'll regret it.' Aw, poor Jamesy-boy, never took Samantha's threats seriously. Of course, half the time she never acted on them, she was so sweet, so you can't blame James for brushing the comment aside. Not accounting for the fact that she was already humiliated and distraught over destroying a class, he continued, 'That was some stunt you pulled in there. Don't think anyone will soon forget that one. Too bad Charms aren't half as useful as Transfiguration, or you could just back off and work with them and leave poor McGonagall to teach in peace.'

"At that point Lily muttered, 'Watch it, Potter,' and he backed off a bit til Sam said, 'You don't know what you're talking about, Potter! Charms are just as useful as the most advanced Transfiguration. Far more fun, too.' Now James could never stand to hear any of his interests referred to as boring, and that's just what she was implying, trying to annoy him. It worked. 'Oh, yeah, Satine?' he cried. 'Well, if this isn't fun, I don't know what is!' and he transfigured Samantha and Lily's school robes into black bat's wings. 

"You should have seen them scream! Lily stood there in dismay, shocked that anyone could have such a low regard for school rules, but when I looked at Samantha, she was smiling. I turned back to congratulate James, and the next thing I knew this little voice came from right above us. 'Say, Potter, how long do these things last?' We looked up to see Samantha hovering over our heads, wings flapping slowly. We just gaped at her, and before James could answer, the wings disappeared with a little popping sound and she fell from mid-air right on top of us. Hehehe . . . James was so mad, you should have seen him pushing her away!

"She stood up, brushed her robes off, and smiled her serene little grin. 'That's the difference between Charms and Transfiguration, Potter,' she said coolly. 'Your spell was so difficult to maintain that it lasted thirty seconds at the most. My Charm will be in place, oh, the next six hours or so.' And she and Lily bounced off, giggling like mad.

"That's when James and I noticed everyone was gaping at our backs, where identical sets of colorful pink and yellow butterfly wings had sprouted. We walked around looking like that the rest of the day. And the worst part was, they were so delicate they couldn't support our bodies enough to allow us to fly!"

Sirius finished his tale, still chuckling. "Actually," he mused, "I can't really blame him for never liking her back then."

"Did they ever end up getting along?" Hermione wondered.

"Eventually. Sam was the one who finally got Lily and James together, you know. Although, she never would have known about James' crush in the first place if I hadn't been so absent-minded and spilled the whole thing . . ."

"How did that happen?" Ron asked eagerly.

Sirius sighed. "I'd love to tell you, but that'll have to wait til later. It's getting late and you four had better be getting back."

"Come on, Sirius. We have time for one more story."

He chuckled lightly. "That's persuasive, coming from you Hermione, who's always so concerned about being on time," Hermione blushed, "but I've gotten carried away here. It's dangerous to have you here so long."

With a few more groans and protests, the four teenagers got their feet and bid Sirius goodbye.

As they left the cave, Elizabeth turned one last time and caught Sirius' eyes. They held eachother's gaze for a minute, and then the four were gone. 

Harry and Elizabeth remained quiet on the walk back down to Hogsmeade village, while Ron and Hermione chatted lightly about Sirius' odd behavior.

"He didn't say hi to us or anything. It was like he was in a daze or something. He didn't even ask Harry for recent news about You-Know-Who!" Ron exclaimed to Hermione.

She just shook her head and smiled, still in a near-daze herself from the cheering afternoon. "I've never seen him like that. Did you look at his eyes? For an entire hour they lost that glaze that's always over them, like his years of imprisonment just melted away . . ." she mused.

"Hey, that's a good description of it," Ron replied, smiling at her. "I'm just surprised that he didn't seem to know anything about the rumors about Samantha."

"Maybe he knows them not to be true."

"What do you think, Elizabeth?"

"Mmm, sure," Elizabeth answered dreamily, making it clear she hadn't been paying attention. 

Ron snorted. "You've had a long day," Hermione laughed. "Let's hurry back to the castle."

Elizabeth nodded numbly. Her mind was reeling with the last look she had shared with Sirius. There had been something there . . . something he hadn't been telling her. She didn't know how, but Elizabeth now knew that Samantha was more than a friend to Sirius, just as Sirius knew that Samantha was more than an aunt to Elizabeth.

Back on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Sirius was feeling hazy as well. For the longest time he sat gazing at nothing in particular, smiling like he hadn't in years.

*~*~*

"Just what do you think you're smiling about, Mr. Black?"

Sirius grinned teasingly at Samantha, who was seated at a table lodged in the corner of the common room, a pen poised in her hand over the notebook she'd been writing in. "It's just amusing to see you taking after me, that's all," he replied, giving the girl an admiring look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she scoffed.

He put a hand on the back of her chair and stared into her eyes with as serious a look as he could muster. "You're plotting something."

"I am not!" she cried quickly, but Sirius' grin returned as he watched her stuff the notebook out of sight.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he lilted, his tone playful, as he retreated toward the portrait hole.

"Don't call me Prin –"

"I'm off to Quidditch practice. You can let me help when I get back!" he interrupted, making a gallant exit.

Samantha rolled her eyes, but then smiled in the direction of the portrait hole. She whipped out her notebook and murmured, "Are you kidding me? I plan to have it completed by then."

She got to work.

***

An hour later, Samantha stopped at the last step leading from her dorm to the common room, jittering uneasily. She had had complete confidence in her plan when she'd dropped off the note on Lily's bed, but now that she had to approach James Potter, she wondered if she wasn't making a huge mistake. If this didn't work, Lily would kill her. Heck, she might kill her even if it did work. And what would Sirius say? She didn't really care about Potter's reaction, but she felt a slight shiver at the thought of losing Sirius' high opinion. But if it _did_ work, and she never had to put up with Lily's wistful sighing again . . . _Besides, then Potter will have to stop playing all those pranks on us_, she thought. That decided it. She bounded down the steps, slowing as she approached James. 

"Potter," she said briskly, pretending this was just another annoying errand she had to do. _After all, I'm not supposed to know what's in the letter._ James started, obviously surprised to find Samantha Satine actually speaking to him.

"Yeah, what do you want, Satine?" When he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, Samantha no longer had to feign impatience with him; it came naturally.

"Lily asked me to give this to you. Can't imagine why she'd ever feel like acknowledging you existence, but . . ." James snapped the letter from her outstretched hand before she could finish.

"Well that's for me to find out, isn't it?" he snapped. "You can go now." He waved a hand dismissively, then started tearing at the letter's seal in eagerness, not even waiting for her to leave.

Samantha threw back her shoulders and admonished, "What, no thank you?" But she was grinning wildly as she waltzed away.

***

"Oh, stop it, will you?" Lily whispered in fierce desperation to her heart. She let out an exasperated sigh as it continued beating wildly. "Maybe coming here was a mistake," she muttered to herself, "it's probably just another one of his pranks. Although Black _did_ say he likes me . . . but who's he to trust anyway? Just because Sammy's so innocent doesn't mean _he_ is. And look at me! Talking to my heart in the library over some silly letter!" She determined to leave, but couldn't help opening the "silly letter" one more time.

__

Dear Lily, I have some things I've been meaning to tell you, and I think I'll burst if I don't get this out in the open soon. Please meet me in the library at 6 o'clock during dinner. Sincerely, James. 

"It's four past six," she sighed. "I should just leave. This whole thing was a bad idea." But as she said this, she pulled out a chair and sat down to wait.

__

James, I know we have not always gotten along so well, but I think I have had a change of heart. Please, James, meet me in the library at five past six this evening. We need to talk. I'll be waiting, Lily.

James sucked in a calming breath after reading the note for what seemed like the thousandth time since Samantha had given it to him that afternoon. He hovered at the door to the library, feeling a barrage of worries like he'd never experienced. _If she simply wants to stop with all the practical jokes and be friends, I don't think I'll be able to stand it, but . . ._ his eyes locked on the words, "a change of heart," _if it's more, then I'll never forgive myself for being a coward._ Clenching his fists in fierce determination, he strode into the library before doubts could cloud his resolve.

"James," Lily stood up the minute he came through the door, wringing her hands as he approached. "Look," she said, deciding she should clear up her worries that this was all some joke before her feelings carried her away. "About this letter . . ." She faltered as she caught his gaze. He wasn't looking at the letter crumpled in her hand; he was staring directly into her eyes. _So much for cowardice,_ he though amusedly, _it took Sirius six years to look Samantha in the eyes, and that was only by mistake._

"Before you say anything about the letter," he said, referring to the note crumpled in _his_ hand, "I have to tell you," _keep breathing, you can do this_, "that even though I know it would be good to resolve our issues and become friends, I don't think I could live with nothing more than that. Please don't tell me you came here to become just my friend, because you mean so much more to me than that."

When she didn't say a word, he felt himself go faint. _Idiot! You completely misinterpreted her letter!_ he thought, cringing. But when he opened his eyes, she was still staring at him like before, only now her eyes were practically ablaze with pleasure, and before he knew it, she leaned in and kissed him lightly. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, James Potter," she murmured. "I need to be getting back now, but will you meet me on the Quidditch pitch tonight at eight?" After he nodded his consent she tore herself from his gaze, worried she might just collapse under the intensity of it, and suddenly desperate for some advice from Samantha. She paused at the exit, and turned back to see him still standing there, motionless. "Thanks for asking me here," she added, with a genuine smile.

__

Didn't you ask me_ here?_ James thought dumbly as Lily practically floated from the library. But the questions was lost amidst the thoughts whirling through his mind, not the least of which was the memory of the feeling of her lips against his . . .

***

"Sam!" Lily cried eagerly. Samantha jumped out of her chair by the fire as Lily entered the nearly empty common room. Everyone besides Samantha, who had been waiting for Lily, and Sirius and Remus, who were finishing up a game of wizard's chess (although Samantha knew Sirius was staying because he suspected something), was at supper. When she spotted the smile adorning her friend's face, Samantha immediately relaxed. The past ten minutes had been torturous, gazing into the flames knowing at that very moment Lily and James were in the library under false pretences. But apparently everything had worked out.

"Someone's cheery today, Evans," commented Sirius, looking over at the girls from his position on the floor playing wizarding chess with Remus. He was surprised to see the utter relief etched over Samantha's features.

Lily ignored him. "Sammy, look at this letter," she urged, pressing the creased note into her friend's hands.

Samantha opened it, pretending to read.

"Well, what do you think?" Lily asked, impatient.

__

I think I disguise my handwriting pretty well. "Sounds suspicious, Lil, if I know Potter," Samantha replied carefully.

"Oh, but wait until you hear what happened!"

"You actually went? Without consulting me first?" Samantha tried to feign enough outrage to mask her burning curiosity, not to mention her amusement. 

But before Lily could answer, James burst into the room. Apparently not even noticing the girls, he plopped down beside Remus and Sirius. "Look at this," he said, shoving a piece of paper onto Sirius. Lily eyed it suspiciously. Samantha, noticing this, tried to detract her friend's attention from the boys. 

Sirius prevented this. Reading the letter, he suddenly let loose in a fit of laughter, despite the pleading looks Samantha was sending him.

"What?" James demanded, offended.

"It's nothing, Prongsy, just . . ." More laughter. "I'd think you'd know Lily's handwriting when you saw it. You've been treasuring that page of History of Magic notes she dropped for the longest time." 

"This isn't Lily's handwriting." James' response began as a question, but ended as a statement as he realized the truth behind his friend's observation.

"What's not my handwriting?" Lily cried shrilly, suddenly upset that Sirius should be laughing over, well, whatever was going on. 

"Lil, don't go over there," Samantha muttered feebly. She knew it was no use.

"You didn't have the guts to write your own letter to me, Lily?" James cried.

"What letter?"

"_What letter?! _The one asking me to meet you in the library, of course!"

"I don't know why you think that response is so obvious! Especially since _you_ asked _me_ to meet you in the library!"

"I did not!"

"I have the proof right here!" Lily wailed, waving the letter in front of his face. 

Samantha sank back into her chair, face in her hands. Sirius nearly collapsed in hysteria. "This is too good!" he cried through tears of mirth. 

James' eyes furrowed in confusion as he read the letter Lily had thrust at him. "But I didn't write this . . ."

"And I didn't write _that_," Lily countered, jerking her head in the direction of Sirius, who was still clutching James' letter as he rolled on the floor.

"Sirius," James asked slowly, "just whose handwriting is that?"

Sirius calmed down long enough to grin, "Where'd ya get the letter?"

Slowly, as if in a dream, Samantha saw Lily and James both turn to stare at her. Her guilty shrug declared all. 

"Samantha Satine!" Lily trilled. Samantha grimaced. "How dare you go about messing in my personal life! Can you imagine if this had gone _wrong_?!?"

"But it didn't," Sirius exclaimed. "How could it? She's learned from the best!"

His grin flickered under the fierce glower that met him from Lily's direction. "I'd be careful if I were you, Black," she spat. "I'm sure James isn't too happy that his best friend's girlfriend is meddling with his love life." She stomped off to her dormitory.

"Isn't that, sweet, James?" Sirius asked. "She's not calling you 'Potter' anymore."

All he received in response was a murderous glare as James, too, marched off to his room. Glancing between Samantha and Sirius, Remus decided it might be a good time to leave. He slipped out the portrait hole and decided to go find Peter.

"That went well, eh?" Sirius' voice filled the emptied common room cheerily, but he felt a slight pain when he saw the disheartened look on Samantha's face. 

"You know," she whispered, "I didn't really expect a positive response, but somewhere deep down I guess I was just hoping that they would love me for this. I mean . . ." she faltered as a tiny sob tore at her throat. "It's just that . . ." She looked up with glassy eyes to find that Sirius was no longer in front of her. Instead, she felt his warm arms wrap around her from behind.

"They'll appreciate you for it someday, I'm sure," he said softly. "And for the moment, don't you worry. They may not love you, but I certainly do."

She took a shuddering breath, relaxing slightly. "I guess you're right. Thanks Sirius." She disentangled herself from him and sighed, "Well, I'd better go talk to Lily."

"Shouldn't you wait til she calms down a bit?"

"And have to prolong the moment when I finally get to hear what happened in the library?" 

Sirius grinned, encouraging a weak smile from Samantha in return. He watched her walk out of sight, when the memory of what he'd just said left him breathless. "_They may not love you, but I certainly do."_ The oddest feeling engulfed him as he realized the meaning behind those words. He hadn't meant to say them, they had just slipped out, yet somehow he didn't feel the panic he was expecting.

He walked up to his dorm with his head reeling, but stopped with an amused look just inside the doorway. James seemed to be engaged in mortal combat with – Sirius blinked – a brush? Sirius made his way into the room slowly, not wishing to disturb this amusing spectacle.

"Argh!" James cried suddenly, launching the brush behind him. 

Sirius jumped, the brush barely missing him as it whizzed past his head and hit the wall with full force. "Ouch," he muttered. "That'll leave a mark." James whirled around and gave his friend a sheepish look. "What exactly are you doing?" Sirius asked.

"I was _attempting_ to make my hair lay flat," responded James through clenched teeth.

"Didn't do much good, did it?" Sirius snorted. James cast him a murderous glare, and Sirius wiped the grin off his face the best he could. "Anyway, it's always like that. Why try to change what's worked for you forever?"

James sat down on his four-poster, sighing heavily. "I've got a date with Lily tonight."

"Oh, that," Sirius nodded sagely.

"And I guess I just want to look nice, that's all."

"She obviously liked your hair just fine how it was before. I mean, she liked you enough to accept, didn't she?"

Sirius waited for a confident affirmation, but none came. "James?"

"I think . . ."

"Yes?"

"I think she only accepted because your interfering girlfriend forced her into it."

Sirius nearly bit out a sharp retort, but he caught the forlorn look on his friend's face first. _This insane idea that Lily doesn't really want him is driving him mad. _Sirius had known James all his life, and never had he seen him get so touchy about a subject as he did about Lily Evans. He couldn't remember a day at Hogwarts when James wasn't plotting something or other to grab her attention, although most plans usually didn't grab it in a positive light. Yet as his best friend, Sirius had known even before James had what James felt for Lily. He smiled at his friend, who was rubbing his forehead with one hand, the other absently raking his hair, and realized this must be how it was between Lily and Samantha.

"My 'interfering girlfriend' happens to know Lily Evans better than any other person in this school, and I know for a fact that Sammy would never force her best friend into something she didn't want. Having Samantha say Lily likes you is just as good as hearing it from Lily herself."

"I'd rather hear it from Lily," James muttered glumly, suddenly so paranoid about being set up that he was beginning to doubt Lily's kiss, but he caught Sirius' eye and smiled slightly. "But thanks."

Sirius nodded, reveling in his triumph. "Which reminds me, you'd better remember to thank her."

"Thank Satine?"

"Thank _Samantha_," Sirius gave him a wry look. "She was pretty distraught before when you and Lily both got upset with her for trying to help."

"Oh," James cleared his throat awkwardly, realizing with a pang of guilt that while Sirius had been supporting his feelings for Lily for the longest time, he had never once been supportive of Sirius' feelings for Samantha. "I . . . Sirius, are you okay?"

Sirius jumped up, jerked from his train of contemplation. "Yeah, I was just thinking about . . . before, in the common room, after you and Lily left."

"Yes?"

"I told her I love her."

"You what?!"

"I didn't plan to say it, it just seemed like the right thing to say at the right time. I didn't even mean it _that_ way; it was more of a friendly thing."

"But what did she think?"

"I don't think she even noticed. Like I said, it really did just fit into the conversation."

"Well, what are you worried about then?"

"I . . ." Sirius paused, and couldn't help but think how ironic the sudden reversal of roles was – now it he who needed help from James. James waited patiently, and Sirius felt the words pour from his mouth at the honest, open look on his friend's face. "I think I do."

"Do what?"

"Love her." He rushed on as James' eyebrows shot up, "I mean, I didn't mean it at the time, I wasn't even thinking about it, but I think, I think I mean it now."

"But it hasn't been that long."

"I know."

"Have you even kissed her?"

"No."

"Really?!"

"James!" Sirius frowned at the incredulity lighting his friend's features.

"Okay, okay, I'll be serious." 

There was a pause as both boys slipped into contemplation. Sirius ran over the conversation with Samantha once again in his head. She certainly hadn't seemed to notice his slip-up. But what if she had, and was only pretending to be oblivious because she didn't feel the same way and wanted to spare his feelings? After all, he had been in love with her since . . . well, since long before he'd finally admitted his feelings. But Samantha? Did she feel that way? He jumped when James said, "I like her, you know."

"Lily? Yeah, I kinda caught on to that years ago."

"No, Samantha."

"What?"

"She's a good person. I never meant to be so cool toward her, but I guess it was just a way to get out my disappointment at never being noticed by Lily. She's actually very sweet, Sirius. You're lucky to have her."

Sirius couldn't think of anything to say, so he nodded vaguely, still trying to get over the shock of hearing James Potter admitting he had been in the wrong.

"And I think you should tell her." 

Once again, Sirius started at the sound of his friend's voice. And once again, his only response was, "What?"

James repeated patiently, "I think you should tell her you love her. After all, it'd be a shame to lose a girl like that."

Sirius gave his friend a lopsided grin, "Thanks," he said genuinely. He bounded off his bed and headed toward the door. "Good luck with your hair," he added. The serious air in the room dissipated as both boys broke into identical smirks. All the luck in the world couldn't keep James' hair in place. Sirius shrugged, "Hey, it was worth a shot." He proceeded down the stairs.

***

Once in the Common Room, Sirius was puzzled to see Samantha still hard at work at her table in the corner. He waltzed over and sat down beside her. "Another plot in the works?" he asked.

She laughed lightly, "Nope, just working on my family tree for History of Magic."

He glanced over the dozens of charts and documents covering the table with raised eyebrows. "You do know it's not meant to be a big project, right?"

"I know," she replied, hardly looking up.

"And that we only have to go back a few generations?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And yet you're doing all this work?"

"Yep." Sirius stared at her in silence, patiently waiting.

She finally looked up. "Did you know my family might have fairy ancestry?" she asked eagerly.

He sighed. He loved the look that came into her eyes when she was passionately pursuing something. "Really?"

Her enthusiasm was fed by this display of mild interest. "Yes, I'm just sure of it! You remember hearing about Princess Ellianne in class, right? The ruler during the downfall of the Lilwalnian monarchy in the days of the Ancient Magic?" Sirius nodded encouragingly although he had no idea what she was talking about. "Well, I discovered that her mother was a fairy. And I'm so close to proving that our family descended from her! I just need to find out if her daughter had to go into hiding, and if so, what she changed her name to."

Sirius thought for a minute, and then asked, "Wait, isn't this the seventeen-year-old princess who was murdered after her coronation? The one whose fiancé was said to be in on the assassination plot but ended up getting engulfed in the flames of the burning palace?" He was surprised at this sudden recollection and had to grudgingly admit that maybe History of Magic wasn't excruciatingly boring all the time. Samantha nodded. "She never had a daughter," he said, feeling slightly guilty at bursting her daydream, yet somehow he knew she must have realized this already. After all, she was getting top marks in that class.

"Oh, that's what they teach us, but I'm pretty sure she did."

Not wanting to get into an argument over fanciful speculation, Sirius changed the subject. "You would like to be related to fairies?" he asked. 

"Oh, yes!" she cried enthusiastically. "I just love them! They're like the epitome of all good magic! Do you remember what Flitwick was saying about them the other day – about the power they channeled into the Ancient Magic to help maintain the natural forces of good in the Magical Community? And the Woodland Fairies! Remember how they're said to be able to cure anything, even . . ." 

Sirius was listening as she gushed on, smiling at her passion, when the perfect plan came to him. He abruptly stood up and excused himself. Breaking off from her train of thought, she queried, "Where're you going?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Now, Sirius Black!" she scolded. "I do believe _you're_ the one up to something!" 

"Well, you'll see, now won't you?" was all he said before slipping out through the portrait hole. 

Samantha shrugged and turned back to her family tree.

***

After awhile Samantha had given in to her grumbling stomach and had slipped down to the Great Hall to catch the end of dinner. Pausing at the library on the way back, she found a book that might prove useful in her family tree investigation. When she finally returned to Gryffindor Tower at a little past eight, she found Sirius sitting on the couch in front of the fire, grinning. 

"What?" she asked, plopping down beside him and opening her book. When he didn't respond, just continued grinning insanely, she shrugged, threw a pillow onto his lap, and settled down to read, head on the pillow, feet dangling over the opposite arm of the sofa. 

Eventually he stared down at her in a vain attempt to attract her gaze. But when Samantha was immersed in a book, it wasn't that easy to get her attention. "James and Lily are on their first date," he finally said. 

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "What?! Right now?"

"Yep, saw them leave ten minutes ago. Lily just wanted to talk to him out on the pitch where it's quiet, but I have no doubt he'll be taking her on a little flying tour around Hogwarts."

"I can't believe she didn't tell me," Samantha grumbled before turning back to her book. 

Sirius stared at her incredulously. "That's all you're going to say?"

"Sure. After all, she'll come back happy, realize I was right about the letters, her feelings, James, ect., and everything will be normal again. Now, hush. This is fascinating." 

Perplexed, Sirius sat still for another moment or two. Somehow, he'd been expecting her to ask why they were sitting there in the common room on a Friday night doing nothing while Lily and James were off flying beneath the stars. He realized they complimented eachother so well that just being together doing nothing was comfortable, but for some reason, he felt the worry rising in his chest that she didn't feel the same way he did. "C'mon, Sam. I gotta show you something."

"Just let me finish the chapter, Sirius. Five more min . . . hey!" He stood up so abruptly that it was a shock when her head sank back into the sofa cushions. She rolled on her side to find Sirius standing over her, holding out a hand. "Oh, alright," she muttered, smiling slightly as she accepted it.

Ten minutes later found them out of the castle, down through the grounds, and past the lake. With each step, Samantha grew increasingly curious. There was something intriguing about being out under the pale light of the crescent moon after dark. "Where are we going?" she whispered, almost afraid to speak up. Sirius had led her to a part of the grounds she'd never seen before. There was a tiny fountain off to the right, and directly ahead of them, a towering hedge. They stopped in front of the enormous bush. "Um, Sirius . . .?"

"Shh . . ." He paused, trying hard to remember the spell. It had been over two months since he and his fellow Marauders had discovered this on one of their midnight prowls. With a wave of his wand he muttered, "_Scintillement_!" and was half-shocked when it actually worked. 

The solid hedge in front of them suddenly gave way to a small opening, through which Sirius led a shocked Samantha. She gripped his hand tightly, staring in amazement at the tiny winding path that had appeared through the bush. The passageway had a gentle downward slope, and Samantha noticed that as they descended the night seemed to glow brighter. Or perhaps it was just because the hedges were falling away now into flower-covered bushes and fruit-bearing trees, and a little river had sprouted beside the path, its waters trickling along merrily under the moonlight. There was something down here that seemed so . . . enchanted. And when they reached the end of the trail, Samantha discovered exactly what it was. 

Before them, laid out under the velvety rich dark sky, the twinkling lights of hundreds of minute brightly colored lanterns illuminated a garden abundant in elegant flowers of every color and kind. Vines twisted down from the branches of trees, dangling lazily over the shimmering pond into which the stream poured, bushes hung heavy with ripe berries, and the grass beneath their feet was lush and green. But despite the entrancing perfection of the garden, the true attraction was in the air – where dozens of tiny fairies flitted to and fro, laughing, singing and chatting merrily as they went about their daily lives, oblivious to their visitors.

For a moment all Samantha could do was stare in wonderment, clutching Sirius' hand in wild surprise. He waited with baited breath, and finally she let out a wistful sigh and whispered, "Oh, Siri! It's absolutely breathtaking!" One look at her face told him she was positively glowing, and soon he was, too. It was one of the best feelings he'd ever experienced – making her so happy. Of course, he'd known she would be. It was impossible to be here and not feel the rich, old magic of the fairies seep comfortingly into your veins. Even the Marauders had had to take a break from exploring when they'd discovered the fairy haven.

Sirius led Samantha to a flat rock off to the side, and they sat together, talking some ("I can't believe Hogwarts has served as a protection ground for fairies all this time and I've never known!" Samantha breathed.), but mostly watching the beauty around them. There was something comforting about observing magical creatures flourishing and just living in their natural habitat.

Sirius waited awhile before turning to Samantha and saying, "Samantha, there's something I need to tell you." She tore her rapt attention from the pond, where the fairy lanterns reflected off the rippling water, and gave it all to him. "Sam, I . . ." He stopped. Her gaze was so intent and so full of joy that his heart skipped a beat, because he knew that the happiness brimming in her eyes at the moment was caused by _him_, and not the fairy pond. His breath caught in his throat, and he lost what he'd meant to say. Instead, he felt himself leaning in gently, and saw Samantha begin to do the same. 

But suddenly the light in her eyes clouded over and she pulled back. "Sarah," she murmured. 

"What?" Sirius, surprised at suddenness of this proclamation, and still recovering from being jerked from the moment, found himself completely lost. He frowned at the agitation lining her face.

"What would Sarah say about this?" she repeated, this time looking genuinely worried. 

She looked like a child, completely forgetting the moment of a second ago in a new thought. Sirius saw this – how everything they'd just had was lost in an instant – and a new feeling, anger, began boiling within him. "To hell with Sarah!" he cried vehemently. 

Samantha jerked back, shocked. "Sirius!" she admonished. "You don't know the half of it!" 

"No, Sam, I mean it! You can't go on like this, always dictated by everything your sister says and does, it's ridiculous! She treats you like rubbish; what makes you feel like you need to stand for it? You're smart, sweet, strong, and a zillion other things she's not, and you deserve to live your own life without some bitter little brat who claims to be your sister while not acting like a true family member at all ruining everything you do!"

He continued ranting and raving for several minutes until he looked up and was startled to see Samantha smiling at him once again with full, twinkling eyes. "What?" he tried to snap at her, but somehow the word came out far less harsh than intended. 

She put a gentle hand to his forehead and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into his face. "I love it when you stand up for me like that, you know. No one ever does that." 

"Yeah, well, I . . ." he trailed off, lost in looking at her. In his mind he was furious – he'd been on the verge of settling this Sarah issue once and for all; he'd had a point and he had almost made it. Every ounce of his intelligence rebelled against giving up now and losing this advantage . . . but his heart betrayed him, and in a moment he was once again completely captivated by the girl before him, no room left in his thoughts for anything but how enchanting she looked under the pale light of the crescent moon. And how much her eyes begged him to drop the issue. He leaned in slowly, and his heart rate tripled as a serious look replaced her teasing one. She knew what he was going to do, but this time she didn't pull away. 

And both were blissfully ignorant to the fairies flitting delicately above them, the twinkling lights of hundreds of lanterns, and the gentle murmur of the bubbling brook, as their lips met in a passionate first kiss.

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Adoring Thanks to Everyone: (short messages this time or I'll be up til 3 am)

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Cellie: No, alas, Sirius is not Elizabeth's father (as many reviewers have already screamed at me about), but the situation won't be as sad as it seems. :) *laughs* Yes, that would be confusing merging this with Dewdrops, although I'm sure you could manage it if you put in an immense amount of time. After all, you were able to explain that whole time-turner thing in 'I Never Knew' extremely well ^_^

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Beak: Ah, a new reviewer! Thank you so much! I'm glad you like the pace of the story (although my updating pace could use some improvement…), and thank you for the praise – it means a lot that you took the time to muddle through all this and still loved it ;)

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Torrential Zephyr: I owe you a much longer thank-you than I have time to write here. You have been such an amazing support that I could go on and on. I can honestly say you were a main influence in the writing of this chapter. So thank you for all the messages, concerns, get-well wishes, and the free time you sent me (although it came in the form of a 2 AM time slot, so I'm not sure if the postal service is too concerned about my sleep…) In regards to your original review for chapter 9: I'm amazed you picked up on the Queen Ellianne comment! It was like you were reading my mind (or as if you'd read my separate Elizabeth/Ellianne story, the original inspiration behind this fic). You see, perhaps you are physic! Oh, and you're completely right about the "his or her" versus "its" in that one sentence. I'm going to fix that when I upload this, because that is obviously wrong. Thanks!

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Hollie: Wow… you wouldn't believe how much I'm smiling right now as I go back and read the ten reviews from you since I last updated :) To answer your questions (if you even remember what you wrote ^_*): This is my first posted fic; I wrote a semi-fanfic before I even knew what fanfiction was (the inspiration behind this one); yes, Scott will reappear eventually; of course there'll be a happy ending for Sirius! I love him, too!; can Sam come back? *laughs* I'm actually toying with that idea for a fun little sequel… You were the main inspiration for the primarily Marauder-period section of this chapter, actually :) Thank you so much for all the reviews (and especially for the get-well note).

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Tsukii-chan: "Sirius should start running for the hills…" *laughs* Yeah, I admit, I'm putting the poor guy through a lot… Yep, Ellianne! See how I tie everything together? (Gotta hook 'em in for when I post "Diamond Bracelet," after all! Need a new title first, though…) And isn't it fun understanding the vagueaties? Now you know the superior feeling I get when I read your stories and know no one else understands all I do! ^^*

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googleduckie: Samantha _is_ cute, isn't she? *grins* Could I really make her evil? Ron didn't reveal his knowledge of Elizabeth's past til then because he'd already made such a big mess with the feud with her at the beginning that once it was resolved he didn't want to bring up anything that might disturb their friendship until it was absolutely necessary. Thanks for liking my version of Dumbledore; it's very encouraging :) And you came here before even checking your reviews? *stands back and regards googleduckie in reverence* Very rarely can I do that!

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T.H: You almost make me fell guilty, you know? Updating your fic so quickly so I can have the constant pleasure of reading it, whereas I take over a month with one silly chapter… Just kidding, I'm immensely grateful to you. Reading your story is very calming. This time I didn't end on a cliffhanger, though, see? So if it takes another month to update, it won't matter! (Don't panic; I fully plan to update sooner this time!)

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Karma50: Everyone keeps commenting on the interesting twists in this! It's flattering, but I honestly never viewed it that way! "How could you leave a story like this not knowing what's going to happen?" When I read that, I felt a surge of confidence that maybe I shouldn't be so nervous my reviewers will get bored and never return. Thank you! Also, I laughed so hard when I read that line in an e-mail you sent me about writing about Intoned Charms taking the same toll on me as performing them takes on Elizabeth. In a way, that's exactly true!

snowwolf: Ah, yes, Ron has quite a mind for gossip. See – Hermione is right – he really could go far if he applied that effort to classes! Sarah scene next chapter, I promise. That storyline will be tied together eventually.

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Nikki: It is a bizarre twist, but I have a reason (yes, one other than the temporary insanity I suffered in eighth grade when the idea for this story came to me.) Btw, don't get mad at me about this – it's just a story. If you have any reason to be mad it should be because I never e-mail. But I DO have excuses for that. I just need the time to write them… I'll take this advantage to ask you now, though, since an e-mail anytime soon seems unlikely – are you prepared to help me make sure this trip to Canada happens this summer? After all, I've always wanted to meet "the dork back in Canada." :)

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Bessyboo: *wails pathetically* I'm sorry, really! But this is how the story goes! At least there's no cliffhanger this time, right? Oh, and I got your e-mail about your friend's story, which I really will read eventually (promise! I was planning to ever since your first message!), but if the long wait for this chapter hasn't been evidence enough, you'd know from my bio page that I'm not having the easiest time of things at the moment. I am _extremely_ overwhelmed. It's actually amazing this is getting posted at all. Tell Lara I'll be by soon. And I hope this chapter was more pleasing than the last ;)

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the-fairies-midwife: You haven't updated in awhile, either – our teachers must be in on some joint plot to bring down fanfiction writers everywhere. I swear, they really don't want me to have free time. Ever. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this despite your plague of "reincarnated medieval torturers." I appreciate it. (And you think I'm eloquent! That's one of my improvement goals! ^_^)

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pinefresh: The Sirius/Samantha kiss in this chapter? Completely due to you. You're right – I can't believe it took so long for me to realize I'd skipped that little detail! Maybe it took so long cuz I'm not the greatest fluff writer. Seriously, I wish I could do as well as you in that category. Not that it bothers me; I'll be happy just as long as you keep posting your sweet fics!

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babyphatcat13: Hey! Thanks for the IM, it was really encouraging! If it seemed like I logged off too fast, well that's cuz I was using the old computer with phone line connection and someone called, kicking me off. Next time I promise not to mistake you for one of my brother's friends. Or worse, one of his girlfriends. I can't tell you how many of them IM me saying, "Ooh… do you think Jordan likes me??" It drives me nuts. Thank you for reading this whole thing at the suggestion of a friend!! Thank Lauren, too, I owe her one – I love gaining thoughtful reviewers. Hope you enjoyed the chapter :)

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Balizabeth: I'm abandoning my AP Chem homework to post this. Not much of a loss, really, since all I'd be doing is staring at it blankly. I am so tempted to just drop that class… But I can make it through the year. Is AP European History interesting? I was thinking of trying it next year. Don't worry if it takes you months to come review, I can certainly sympathize :) I'd rather see an update from you than a review, actually. I hope your APs start letting up!

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roary14: I wasn't doubting that you read this; I've just been in a very snappish mood lately. Actually, thank you again & again for coming and reading through this whole thing. It still amazes me when someone does that. I found your comment about distancing yourself from the character fascinating. I've never thought about it that way, but I see your point. I used to do the same thing you do and basically imagine myself as the character, but I've found that it can be emotionally draining (especially if your characters go through all I put mine through ^_^). I'd love to say more to you (your review really intrigued me – see? explaining why you like something earns you great respect!), but I need sleep. I'll be back to review your story, though, and I'd love to help you with your writing. Feel free to criticize mine all you like!

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Thanks to all! And after all that, don't forget to review! ^_*

@~~ Rose

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	11. A Sister's Tears

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As usual, *~*~* signifies a jump between time periods…

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Chapter Eleven: A Sister's Tears

*~*~*

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Dear Aunt Sarah,

Elizabeth paused, pen poised in the air, glancing dubiously at the shaky words scrawled across the page. "Calm down," she instructed herself quietly before crumpling up the parchment and tossing it aside. _I can do this. So what if it'll cause her pain? I love her, but I deserve to hear the truth, and it's her responsibility to tell me. _Her hand was steadied after a few breaths, and she began again.

Dear Aunt Sarah,

I won't be coming home for Christmas. I need to stay here and figure some things out. Did you think I would never discover the truth? Did you really believe you could shelter me for so long? 

Do not blame anyone for this – Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were true to their promise of secrecy to you. Unfortunately for you, the Ancient Magic paid you no such loyalty. If anyone will believe me, it will be you, because you are the only other who understands the heritage of our family, even if you thought it necessary to hide it from me – I discovered the truth about Samantha, about my mother, from a series of postcognition dreams. I love you; I really do, but I know I have a better chance of finding out more about my mother here than I do in a house that has refused to mention her name for fourteen years.

I am writing this to prepare you; the next time I come home, I expect to hear the entire truth from the "parents" I grew up trusting.

Your loving niece,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth bit her lip as she scanned over what she'd written, and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. _This will break her heart_, she thought, picturing Sarah's kind, loving face faltering as she read. _Just because she's technically my aunt doesn't mean I didn't consider her my mother for fourteen years. _But she tensed at this thought. Fourteen years of being lied to, fourteen years of being hidden away so Sarah could have her sister's child all to herself. _And that's why I can't face her_, Elizabeth reminded herself stoutly, _I can't go home until I've come to terms with this. I can't yell at her yet, I can't listen to her feeble explanations, I can't hear her talk about Samantha. I can't . . ._

She sealed the envelope before she could have a change of heart. Half of her wanted to dash home that minute and force them to tell her everything, but the other half knew neither she nor Sarah would be emotionally prepared for the confrontation. Sarah had always been over-dramatic and touchy, and Elizabeth was, well, _scared_, to tell the truth. Her home life was the last shred of normality in her life. Of course, it was nothing more than a fabricated illusion, but the thought of destroying it made her shiver. Elizabeth jumped as someone knocked on the door to the dormitory.

"Elizabeth?" It was Hermione. "You coming to Potions?"

Elizabeth scrambled to address the letter before handing it to Saeli, her owl, and watching the bird float gracefully out the window. She watched until Saeli was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

"Elizabeth?" Hermione touched her elbow gently, and Elizabeth turned. She nodded, and followed her friend out of the room. 

At the door she cast one last look out the window. "I'm sorry, Aunt Sarah," she murmured.

***

"We're going to be late, aren't we?" Elizabeth asked as they exited the portrait hole.

"No, of course n—" Hermione glanced at her watch and gaped. They had one minute to get to class. "How did that happen? We'll never make it all the way down to the dungeons in time!"

"You were too sweet in waiting to interrupt me until I'd finished my letter."

Hermione threw up her hands in despair. "If it were any other teacher . . ." 

Elizabeth grinned, ". . . two upstanding students like us would be able to win him or her over and avoid punishment."

"That is not what I was going to say," Hermione protested.

"That's right. You would beg for a detention to teach yourself a lesson," Elizabeth muttered as she turned and apparently fixed all her attention on an empty bit of air. 

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but stopped when she saw the teasing grin pulling at her friend's lips. Instead she asked, "What are you doing?"

To her surprise, Elizabeth turned around, suddenly dead serious, and begged, "Don't kill me."

Hermione cautiously asked, "Uh . . . for what?"

"I know you hate them and I know you asked me to not learn any more, but really, this is our only chance to get to class on time."

It was an Intoned Charm. Hermione bit her lip, not trusting herself to speak as she watched Elizabeth mutter the charm then trace a door-framed shape in the air with her finger. She sealed the magic with a last command ("to the dungeons!") and a black portal appeared where she had traced. She grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her through without a thought. A split second later, they had stepped through and were standing right in front of the door to Potions.

Elizabeth was grinning broadly. "It worked!" she exclaimed to no one in particular. "I wasn't sure if I could ever master that one!"

Hermione remained silent as they entered the classroom. "It's a useful charm, you know," Elizabeth stated, anxious that the blank look on Hermione's face was attempting to mask displeasure. "And perfectly safe. It can only go places within the castle, and then it only takes you just _outside_ them, so it would be useless to try to get into any private or restricted room. It's a school charm, designed for students. Perfectly harmless."

"Except to teachers like Snape, who would prefer to have a reason to punish us."

Elizabeth laughed, relieved, and she and Hermione got to work on the Levitation Potion they had been instructed on the day before since it required an entire period's time to simmer. Elizabeth's cheerfulness faded and it wasn't long before Hermione noticed she seemed distraught.

"You feel guilty about that letter you sent to your aunt," she said.

"How did you . . ." Elizabeth stopped, already knowing the response. Hermione was meticulously attentive to her studies, but even more so to her friends. "Yeah, I suppose," she conceded.

"Well don't worry about it. You've got a lot of pent up anger that you deserve to get rid of. You can't help feeling sorry for her, but really, if she'd just told you the truth from the beginning . . ."

"It's just – I should be a little more relieved. This will all be over with soon and life will go on, with no more secrets lurking in the darkness just waiting to jump out at me and turn everything upside-down."

Hermione frowned as she added a spoonful of Billywig stings to their potion and stirred slowly, waiting for her friend to continue. 

Elizabeth finally paused in slicing the ciedoux root and murmured, "I'm scared, Hermione. This whole business should be over with, but I feel like it's still just beginning. There's this feeling in my stomach that something's about to happen, that something else is preparing to leap out at me, but I have no idea what. And for some reason, I want more than anything to just leave here and get as far away from Hogwarts as possible."

Hermione looked startled. "Hogwarts is the safest place you can be!"

"I know, but if I were somewhere else, then there would be less chance of you and Harry and Ron being harmed, too." Elizabeth shook her head then, vexed with herself for worrying Hermione with her silly, and most likely unfounded, fears. Before Hermione could protest, Elizabeth said lightly, "But I'm being ridiculous. Perhaps it's just the thought of going back to a normal life that's unnerving me." She turned to Hermione with a smile, but it wasn't returned. "What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nothing," Hermione replied with forced brightness, but she quickly turned her back and wholly occupied herself with attending to the potion. She couldn't quite bring herself to dismiss Elizabeth's troubled feelings as easily as Elizabeth could, especially since they'd had quite a lot of proof lately that Elizabeth's intuitions were to be trusted. And contrary to her friend, she could not believe that this business was anywhere near resolved. What were Sarah's reasons for keeping her niece so sheltered? Who was Elizabeth's father? How was Sirius involved? What had happened to Samantha, anyway? _And why did Elizabeth not want to know?_ There was something Elizabeth wasn't telling her.

*~*~*

Sirius, as usual, was not paying much attention in Potions class. But rather than being occupied with the customary plans to wreak havoc on the potion of some unsuspecting Slytherin, today he was deep in thought. The whole Samantha-Sarah situation was bothering him immensely. Not only was their intense sister rivalry affecting Samantha, but it now directly involved him as well. Arguments had escalated to a point that he could not go two days without having to console a sobbing Samantha, and she seemed almost reluctant to continue a relationship with him from fear of her sister's disapproval, and worse yet, because Sarah's comments had been demeaning enough to convince Samantha that she was not worthy of Sirius. Several times already had her confidence been so shaken that she had been on the point of breaking off her relationship with him. Something had to be done.

"Mr. Black! Would it be asking too much to have you keep your mind off Miss Satine long enough to make one simple potion?" The class erupted in giggles as Sirius, jilted from his thoughts, quickly turned his eyes from where they had been unconsciously resting on Samantha to his annoyed Professor.

"With all due respect, ma'am, I was thinking about her sister," he replied, to the delight of half the classroom, who glanced at Samantha to see how she would take this. Her face had gone from an embarrassed scarlet to an agitated white. She turned back her potion and attempted to ignore everyone.

The Potions Mistress raised her eyebrows. "Not a story I'm interested in hearing, I assure you, Black. Please get back to work."

Sirius nodded, and to the immense disappointment of his fellow classmates, did as he was told. There would be no diversion today. James glanced at his friend, who was now wholly absorbed with measuring ingredients and said lightly, "Dare I ask?"

Sirius looked up, an uncharacteristically solemn expression on his face. "I've made up my mind," he stated, "I'm going to confront Sarah."

"It's about time," James approved. "When?"

"Tomorrow in Hogsmeade."

"And then Samantha will be all yours, right?"  


"As long as she loves me, I won't let her go."

James made no further response, but rather settled back into his own thoughts, coming to the conclusion that Sirius had done a lot of growing up over the past year, and that he was rather impressed.

*~*~*

Something was unsettling Elizabeth, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. As she sat curled in a fluffy armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room gazing into a roaring fire, she attempted, again and again, to settle her thoughts, so far to no avail. They jumped absently from, _I wonder if Aunt Sarah's read the letter yet _to_ Why does Hermione look so doubtful when I say this whole thing is almost over?_ and _The Common Room is unusually quiet…oh, Fred and George are off at Quidditch practice… _to finally settle on, _If this is over, then what are all these dreams trying to tell me?_

It puzzled her exceedingly. She had finally given in to Hermione's conclusion, unbelievable as it seemed, that her previous dreams had indeed been a form of postcognition, revealing to her events about the past that she should know. But if she already had discovered what she was meant to learn, that Samantha Satine was her mother, why did the dreams continue? _Perhaps_, she thought in a vain attempt to comfort herself,_ they're just normal dreams._ But she knew that idea was ridiculous the minute it came to her. These dreams were of the same kind, there was no doubting that, but their message was not half so clear. _Or maybe_ _I just don't want to know what they're trying to tell me._

She forced herself to go over them again, to see if she could pick out any new clues. They all progressed along the same line: Samantha being torn from everything she loved into a world of darkness. In one, she was sitting with a group of friends in much the same place as Elizabeth was seated at the moment, laughing and chatting brightly. And her eyes . . . Elizabeth had grown to hate them. They were beautiful, always sparkling with an inner light, which made it all the worse when they were extinguished. Elizabeth shivered as she thought, _Because that's what always happens._ One moment Samantha would be bright and cheery, the next her eyes went dim, her features went pale, and she would be standing back looking at the group of merry teenagers as if from a distance. At first, she would appear not to care that she was estranged from them. She looked cold, yet almost satisfied and smug. But then she would scream and try to rejoin them, tears running down her cheeks in desperation, forever held back by the darkness, until gradually, all her friends faded into nothing and she was left, alone.

Elizabeth wanted to know what had happened to her mother, she really did, but she wasn't sure if she could bear the truth. Especially since the only conclusion she could draw from these dreams was that the rumors Ron had heard might actually possess merit. Samantha adored her friends, but then she had joined the dark side, and was proud to be separate from them, only to realize too late that she didn't want to hurt them, only by then, the Potters were dead and Sirius was imprisoned. It fit the dreams, but somehow, she couldn't imagine it being true. From what she had seen, Samantha was just too _innocent_ to ever betray someone. If anything, her downfalls were a sweet naïveté and a disposition to be overly trusting and loving. She did not seem like the type who could betray _anyone_, let alone her own friends.

Sighing, Elizabeth summoned a blanket to her chair, pulling an old article from her pocket before wrapping the cover around her shoulders. It was another column she had found in _Selected Issues of the Hogwarts Observer_, and it had been bothering her excessively, although she could not pinpoint why. 

__

But From Where Do I Get the Power?

by Lady Sam

I was overwhelmed by the response my article on Intoned Charms received, and was prompted to take the time to do a little extra research for all you dear readers. It turns out that the Ancient Magic declined rapidly when for the first time ever it was channeled for the personal gain of a wizard (sometimes known in myths as Morda the Great) rather than for the good of the land. This wizard, realizing he could satisfy his own selfish desires without using much of his own power, soon began to channel the Magic to become all-powerful. Upon using it for evil, the Magic apparently "broke" and could then only be used by Masters of the Magic, defined as "witches and wizards unable to use magic for evil, and thus able to use the Ancient Magic to empower their spells and help to balance the levels of good and evil present in the world" (_Magic of Old_, page 6). 

Awful, isn't it? Because of the selfish desires of human beings this incredibly powerful tool which used to be available to all witches and wizards became limited to just a few. And since the Magic has been swiftly diminishing for thousands of years as more and more evil enters the world, we are left with so little today that many doubt its existence. There are wizarding historians out there who will tell you it was all just a myth in the first place. Which it is not, I can assure you. But if these 'Masters of the Magic' still exist, how do we find them? Do they even _know_ they possess the gift?

It comes down to a matter of blood. I hate to admit it, as the whole obsession with blood and heritage has always seemed ridiculous to me (many of the greatest witches and wizards I know come from purely Muggle backgrounds), but it seems to be an indisputable fact: the Ancient Magic is born into a witch or wizard just as it was born into the Earth itself. I was (I will grudgingly admit) excited by this discovery. My family is rumored to be descended from the ancient enchantress Queen Ellianne of Lilwalnia, one of the oldest Masters of the Magic, and she in turn was rumored to be half-fairy, and the fairies were the first to channel the Magic. Perhaps, I thought, blind optimist that I am, I could use the Magic to learn an Intoned Charm!

Alas, no, there is a second qualification: power. Not just ordinary "I'm descended from a very powerful wizarding family" power, but real intense, extraordinary power. In the old days, all that was needed was goodness, but today, with the Magic so hard to reach, it takes a rare witch or wizard indeed to ever stand a chance.

The article went on, but Elizabeth couldn't read anymore. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. She had a terrible headache, and before she knew it, she found herself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire . . .

Samantha was bent over a tiny desk, staring out the square window in front of her at a cold, snowy night. A weak flame, struggling to maintain life atop an old and stooping candlestick, provided the room's only light. It was just enough to make the worried creases on Samantha's pale face dimly visible; the rest of he room was obscure.

She pulled out a quill, and after glancing distractedly around the room, began a letter on a scrap of parchment. For three tense minutes she went on like this – writing a line, whirling around and giving the room a terse examination, then turning back to the letter. When at last she finished, beads of sweat had gathered at the brow of her mussed, stringy hair, strands of which hung limply in her blank eyes. Only one line of the note was even remotely clear before Samantha folded and sealed the parchment, but it embedded itself in the mind of the dreamer: 'She'll have the power.'

So preoccupied was she that when she stood, her chair almost clamored to the ground. Pressing a hand to her beating heart, she walked until her back was against the window, and looking straight ahead, she slipped a hand behind her, pushing the letter through a crack at the bottom of the sill. A tiny owl outside picked it up, only waiting for Samantha's faint whisper of, "To Sarah," before flying off into the night.

Samantha blew out the candle and walked into the heavy dark of the ominous gloom around her.

Elizabeth awoke with a sigh and cursed herself for falling asleep. Another dream that she could not decipher . . . _just what I need_, she thought glumly.

*~*~*

"You go on in and grab us a table, I have, er, something I need to do."

Samantha shot Sirius a suspicious look and surveyed him critically. He looked nervous; clouds of snowflakes were billowing around his boots as he tapped his toe anxiously in the rapid downfall. "I have a Christmas present to pick up, and, um, you can't be there when I do," he added. 

This did the trick. The girl's face lit up instantly, and she turned to go inside with a light-hearted shrug. "Well, don't let us hold you up, then. We'll have a warm butterbeer waiting for you when you return." Sirius' heart flipped over in his chest as she blew him a kiss and whirled inside The Three Broomsticks, cheerfully shaking snow off her cloak. The blast of warm air that had met him upon her opening the door quickly died away and Sirius was left shivering in the streets of Hogsmeade. He watched for a moment as Samantha flounced over to find a table, all the while chatting animatedly with Remus and Peter, who were chuckling at whatever she was saying. She gave a merry wave to Lily and James, snuggled at a table in the corner, and soon they were getting up to join the other three. 

He wanted to be inside with them, to be a part of their joyful little bubble. _He_ wanted to be the recipient of all her smiles and giggles, all her wide-eyed grins of pleasure, all her teasing remarks and playful nudges. _But that's why I'm here_, Sirius reminded himself stoutly. _If I want her to be able to open up like this permanently, I have to put an end to this feud with Sarah._ It would be worth it to never see Samantha's bright blue eyes cloud over with tears again, to never again hear her sob that she wasn't good enough even for her own sister. But as he glanced through the fogged-up windows one more time, Sirius had the unsettled feeling in his stomach that he should be inside, not missing a moment with her. _What am I worried about?_ he asked himself. _We're young; I'll have her forever and longer. As soon I finish this with Sarah, anyway . . . _He set off up the street to find the girl who was the cause of all his heartache.

It wasn't long before he spotted her standing in front of a novelty gift shop, arms wrapped tightly around her shivering frame. He marveled for a minute how much she looked like Samantha. Her hair was a shade darker, perhaps, and she was a bit taller, but other than that, the two seemed identical. Sarah turned around as he approached, and he noticed another difference – her eyes, although blue like her sister's, were darker and not affected with the same bright sparkle. Whereas Samantha was always light and bubbly, it was obvious that Sarah had the more serious nature common to older siblings. She looked him over with those passive eyes and then said something which disconcerted the object of their gaze not a little – "Go ahead; tell me why you deserve her and I don't."

*

Inside The Three Broomsticks, Remus finally spotted a free table; the holiday rush had afforded few available places, and the others had been despairing of their foolishness in abandoning the table James and Lily had left. Lily, James, and Peter scurried off to claim the empty chairs. 

Remus and Samantha, who were following behind, stopped when a hand reached out and brushed Samantha's cloak. She turned and smiled at a handsome, dark-haired young man seated alone at a table. "I was wondering," he began, a bewitching half-smile on his thin lips, "if you would like to join me for a drink. I've been watching you for quite some time now and I must admit, you have me entranced."

*

Sirius stared at her, shocked. "What? Sarah, I'm not here to tell you why you don't deserve her," he said, adding in an undertone, "Although you certainly don't."

"No," she replied, and Sirius had the strangest feeling she was holding back tears. "You're here to ask me to back off and leave her alone. If I can't be a supportive sister, I might as well not be one at all. It would be better for her to have no sister at all than to have one that makes her cry. That's what you were going to say, right?"

Sirius nodded mutely; she had pretty much hit it dead on.

"Well let me tell you something! Sammy and I have known each other long before you ever entered her life, and if you think for one minute that you have more authority over her than I do, you'd better think again, Sirius Black! I'm her sister and I'm pretty sure I know her better than you ever will!"

Sirius was getting angry; he had prepared himself to keep his cool during the confrontation, but he had lost all his determination from the moment Sarah had started talking. What was wrong with her, anyway? _First she acts like she_ _knows she's done wrong, now she defends her actions?_ "I don't consider myself to have any authority over her!" he retorted, the heat rising in his cheeks. "I love her, and I only want what's best for her!"

*

Samantha blushed a deep red. "Thank you, but . . ." she began, but he jumped in before she could finish.

"Come now. I'm sure your friends can spare you for a little while," he said in a smooth, confident tone. Remus took a step closer to his friend, his hands near her shoulders.

"Perhaps, but Sirius couldn't," she giggled.

"Sirius?" he repeated, bemused, although Remus couldn't help but notice the stranger immediately tense in jealously. "Is he another who's attempting to win your affection?"

His dark eyes were riveted on her as she gave a blissful smile, following the sigh of her shoulders and the twinkle of her eyes as if trying to absorb her. "He's already won," she replied, her eyes glazed over with happiness. "I love him."

The stranger raised his eyebrows darkly and said in that same gallant tone, although this time with a touch of bitterness, "I see. Forgive me for the intrusion then."

She turned from him, still absorbed in her thoughts, as Remus steered her over to their table. The young man turned back to his lone drink, but not before meeting Remus' eyes. They exchanged a dark glance, broken only by Madame Rosmerta's bustling by.

"That was interesting," Remus muttered, but brightened at the daze still apparent on Samantha's face.

"I love him," Samantha repeated wonderingly. 

Remus grinned. "Yes, we all know that by now."

"But I don't think I've ever said it out loud before."

"No, I suppose you haven't. But now that you have, you'll tell him, right?"

She gave a thoughtful smile and seemed to light up at the idea. "I guess I will."

*

Sarah faltered, and her voice dropped back to a normal tone. "You think _I_ don't love her?"

"If you do, you sure have a poor way of showing it," he replied bitterly.

"Does she think that?"

"That you don't love her? Good heavens, Sarah, after all you've done I'm pretty sure she thinks you despise her!"

"And . . . and does she care?"

Sirius glowered. "Of course she cares. That's why I'm here. If she would just take my advice and ignore you, we wouldn't have half so much to worry about. But you know Sammy, or so you claim to. She cares about _everything._ Especially the big sister she's grown up adoring. So when you turn on her and start calling her the disgrace of the family, it's no wonder it breaks her heart. I've never seen a person more distraught in my life. And over lies, nonetheless, because you know what a wonderful person your little sister is. You can't have lived with her and not have noticed."

"I called her the disgrace of the family," Sarah repeated, more to herself than to Sirius.

Further arguments were on the tip of his tongue, but Sirius was forced to stop when Sarah burst forth with a great sob and sank to her knees in the snow, tears running violently down her cheeks. He was frozen in place for a moment, but his regard for her younger sister soon convinced him to kneel beside her and gently touch her shoulder. "Sarah?"

She looked up into his warm, honest face, her eyes overflowing with tears. "I've lost her," she whispered in such a desperate tone that Sirius shivered. "She's my little sister, the person I'm closer to than anyone else in the world, and I've lost her!"

*

Samantha and Remus sat down beside the other three, who looked up questioningly.

"What's _she_ so happy about?" James asked. Remus just gave a coy smile, and Samantha's thoughts were still elsewhere.

Peter piped up, "Mmm . . . the drinks are here!" Adding, in response to James' question, as he passed the warm mugs of Butterbeer around the table, "Sirius is out buying her Christmas gift, and it must be good because it sure is taking him awhile." He turned to his mug eagerly, putting his nose close to the shimmery liquid and inhaling deeply.

It was James' turn to look sly, as he was the only one who had been filled in on his friend's true plans. "Is he now? Well, I can't wait to see what it is."

*

Sirius was at a loss. This was _not_ how things were supposed to turn out. He was supposed to confront Sarah, tell her how awful she was being and let her know that if she didn't back off, she'd have him to deal with. He was supposed to stalk off angrily, leaving the evil older sister shaking in her shoes, with the resolution never to bother her sister again. And here he was holding her while she sobbed into his shoulder. _What is it with these Satine girls_, he wondered, _that makes them so difficult to just abandon?_

"I don't know what happened," she cried, turning to look at him. "I love Samantha more than anything in the world, but the minute she got to school with me I could do nothing but be awful to her. I hate being alone, Sirius, you have to know that," she said, looking him earnestly in the face. "All my life I had this precious little sister who was inseparable from me, and then suddenly we're living together in the same castle, but I never see her. She's in a different house, a different year, has different friends . . . suddenly she's living her own life, completely independent of me, right under my nose. She was happy _without_ me, Sirius. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had my own group of friends who would have laughed if I willingly sought to be with my 'baby sister' instead of them. I was so mad. I mean, why couldn't she just have been put in Ravenclaw, Sirius? Why? What right does that stupid Sorting Hat have to separate sisters? _I miss her_ . . ."

"So you started verbally abusing her?"

"It made it easier . . ."

Sirius sat stiff and still, a frown on his face. "It made it easier because if you convinced yourself you hated her, it wouldn't hurt so much to not be around her. You wanted someone to blame for not having her in the same house, and as it's useless to blame a hat, you decided to blame her." She nodded meekly.

Then her voice rose in an impassioned sob. "I didn't know what else to do, Sirius! Believe me, I never meant to hurt her, I just got carried away, and, and . . . now she hates me! I was afraid that she would abandon me and hurt me, so I pushed her away myself and ended up losing her even faster!"

Sirius sighed. Nothing could justify Sarah's abuse in his mind, but he couldn't help but feel slightly sympathetic. After all, if Samantha started drawing away from him, he could imagine doing the same thing to lessen his pain. But that was different. Sarah was her _sister_; she should have no reason to fear Samantha's indifference. 

As if reading his thoughts, Sarah whispered, "I know it's ridiculous to think _I_ could ever lose her, being related and all, but every time I look at her, I just get this . . . _feeling_." Sirius shivered. Not again with this intuition stuff that Samantha was always claiming to feel. He was beginning to wonder if everyone in their family was this way. "I look at her and go all cold because I just _know_ she's going to leave me soon," she continued. "I can't stand it. Why would she leave me?" The girl's voice rose shrilly, and Sirius sighed. "I feel like soon I'll lose her forever. And while I should be treasuring my time with her now, I just keep insulting her."

Sirius didn't like the implications of Sarah's words, but he wrote it off as resulting from her hysteria. "Hush," he murmured uncomfortably. "There's nothing to worry about. Samantha's right here. All you have to do is apologize; she's not going anywhere."

Sarah was, indeed, becoming hysterical. "No, it's too late! I've lost her! I've lost her!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sarah, of course you haven't." He continued to hold her, awkwardly, until she calmed down.

Little did he suspect that at that moment, he was losing Samantha, too.

*

Sirius was taking much longer than expected. The boys had run off to the Quidditch shop, leaving Samantha and Lily chatting amiably while waiting for him. Samantha shivered as the door flung open with another customer and a blast of icy air met them. Her own butterbeer gone, she picked up what she assumed to be Remus' goblet and took a long sip, letting the warmth of the liquid seep through her bones.

*

Sirius, at that same moment feeling a sudden chill himself, coaxed Sarah to stand up and attempted to get her to join their table at the pub. She hastily insisted she would prefer to return to the castle, assuring him that she would seek Samantha out to apologize soon. 

She hurried away, and Sirius was left alone, shivering in the snow. 

*~*~*

The holiday season was fast approaching, and Sarah Satine was alight with joy. This had always been her favorite time of year, not for the reasons most people had, but for the simple reason that this had always been _Samantha's_ favorite time of year. And there was no possible way to be anything less than merry when Samantha Satine got it into her head to rejoice. Sarah smiled nostalgically as she stirred her cookie batter. She and Sammy had made cookies every Christmas, the Muggle way, every year before they had enrolled in Hogwarts. Samantha was a terrible cook without her wand; perhaps that was why cookie day was one of Sarah's fondest memories. Samantha brought the joy (trying with eager optimism to overcome disaster in the kitchen every year, only to fail miserably and laugh as she pronounced her cookies inedible), Sarah brought the best-ever sugar cookies, and everyone remarked what a perfect pair they were. 

If there was one thing Sarah could admit to preferring in the Muggle world, it was the cooking. Her talent of whipping up remarkable creations in the kitchen was made all the more impressive by the fact that she never once needed the help of a wand. Besides, memories of attempting to bake with Samantha were among the few recollections of her sister that didn't make her cry; she would be too busy laughing. This year however, she was a little more melancholy than usual, because for the first time in fourteen years she had no Elizabeth by her side. Elizabeth, who had inherited her aunt's talent in culinary arts, brought a cheer almost as vibrant, although slightly more reserved, than her mother had done in Sarah's childhood. For this reason, Sarah was excessively glad to see her Elizabeth's owl, Saelanna, come sweeping towards the kitchen window.

Wiping her floury hands on her apron, Sarah hurried to undo the latch and put up the sill. The owl soared majestically in and went straight for the unused dough left in a bowl. "Saeli!" Sarah exclaimed, ruffling the bird's feathers. "Now what do you think my little girl could have to say to me that couldn't wait until the school holiday?"

She tore at the letter eagerly, but stopped, petrified, as it fell open in her hands. She got as far as the first line, "Dear Aunt Sarah," before she began to scream. "Nick! _Nicholas_!" Her voice shaking, her hands going cold, everything swirling into nothingness around her, she was able to retain consciousness just long enough to be assured of her husband's coming toward her before collapsing into his arms.

Her last words before slipping into darkness were, "I've lost Elizabeth, too."

*

****

Author's Note: Wow; I'm so exhausted I don't even have the energy to apologize profusely for the incredibly long time it took me to update this. But things have calmed down a bit so I've decided to take advantage of it and finally put something up. Alas, no individual thank-you's this time, but I do have a great big hug for all of you for not complaining once that I've mysteriously dropped from ff.net ^_^ I might be concerned that that means you don't _care_, but Hollie's sweet messages have kept me from ever despairing of that (thanks! Are you in the middle of a big snowstorm right now that started Friday afternoon? I'm beginning to wonder how close we live…). Anyway… this chapter and the next (which is halfway done; it had to be written in conjunction with this one because they're closely related) aren't the most exciting, but are necessary to the plot. And after that I'll finally be able to get into the most eventful part of the story (which is completely MWPP, because, obviously, _something_ happened in that time period to make Elizabeth's life such a mess now), so bear with me. Oh, and guess what? I got a new computer (because my dad's sick of me being in his office to use his), so now I can read fanfiction from my room! As soon as we can get my Internet connection to work, that is. But when it's functioning, I'll finally be able to write some long deserved reviews for you all! (Torrential Zephyr & T.H. – I'm practically caught up on your stories, I just haven't been able to review yet… everyone else, I'm coming, really!) Love from Rose @~~


	12. Under the Cover of Night

**__**

The chapter starts several paragraphs down… reading the author's note is your choice…

****

Author's Note:

I realize I promised this chapter months ago, and I realize that all but the last few paragraphs have been sitting on my computer, completely finished, for almost that long, but sometimes things in real life become a lot more pressing that fanfiction. Thank God everything's alright now, and I'm the closest I have been in a long time to being semi-sane, because I can now finally focus on the promise I made when I started this story: it will be completed. I'm not one to leave things undone. Thank you all for being so extraordinarily patient & understanding, for never complaining, and for always encouraging me, because I know I don't always deserve it. As I do not personally know most of you, this is the best I can do by way of a gift of appreciation: 1) Highlight important parts from the previous chapter so you don't have to go back & read it to remember what's going on (as I had to do before I edited this, because it's been so long) – see below; and 2) Let you know that reviews are not required. So if you're reading this just to be nice, feel free to save your time. While reviews are always appreciated & adored, that's not why I'm writing this. Oh, and I suppose a new chapter is something of a gift, too… ;)

****

In the previous chapter: (incomplete text… lines deleted within passages)

__

Dear Aunt Sarah,

I won't be coming home for Christmas. I need to stay here and figure some things out. Did you think I would never discover the truth? Did you really believe you could shelter me for so long?

~~~

She [Hermione] couldn't quite bring herself to dismiss Elizabeth's troubled feelings as easily as Elizabeth could, especially since they'd had quite a lot of proof lately that Elizabeth's intuitions were to be trusted. And contrary to her friend, she could not believe that this business was anywhere near resolved. What were Sarah's reasons for keeping her niece so sheltered? Who was Elizabeth's father? How was Sirius involved? What had happened to Samantha, anyway? _And why did Elizabeth not want to know?_

There was something Elizabeth wasn't telling her.

~~~

Sirius looked up, an uncharacteristically solemn expression on his face. "I've made up my mind," he stated, "I'm going to confront Sarah."

"It's about time," James approved. "When?"

"Tomorrow in Hogsmeade."

"And then Samantha will be all yours, right?"  
"As long as she loves me, I won't let her go."

~~~

__

From Lady Sam's Article, 'But From Where Do I Get the Power?'

My family is rumored to be descended from the ancient enchantress Queen Ellianne of Lilwalnia, one of the oldest Masters of the Magic, and she in turn was rumored to be half-fairy, and the fairies were the first to channel the Magic. Perhaps, I thought, blind optimist that I am, I could use the Magic to learn an Intoned Charm!

Alas, no, there is a second qualification: power. Not just ordinary "I'm descended from a very powerful wizarding family" power, but real intense, extraordinary power. In the old days, all that was needed was goodness, but today, with the Magic so hard to reach, it takes a rare witch or wizard indeed to ever stand a chance.

~~~

From Elizabeth's dream:

__

She pulled out a quill, and after glancing distractedly around the room, began a letter on a scrap of parchment . . . Only one line of the note was even remotely clear before Samantha folded and sealed the parchment, but it embedded itself in the mind of the dreamer: 'She'll have the power.'

~~~

But as he glanced through the fogged-up windows one more time, Sirius had the unsettled feeling in his stomach that he should be inside, not missing a moment with her [Samantha]. _What am I worried about?_ he asked himself. _We're young; I'll have her forever and longer._

~~~

Remus and Samantha, who were following behind, stopped when a hand reached out and brushed Samantha's cloak . . . "I was wondering if you would like to join me for a drink. I've been watching you for quite some time now and I must admit, you have me entranced."

. . . "Come now. I'm sure your friends can spare you for a little while."

"Perhaps, but Sirius couldn't." . . . 

"Sirius? . . . Is he another who's attempting to win your affection?"

"He's already won . . . I love him." . . .

"I see . . . Forgive me for the intrusion then."

~~~

Then her voice rose in an impassioned sob. "I didn't know what else to do, Sirius! Believe me, I never meant to hurt her, I just got carried away, and, and . . . now she hates me! I was afraid that she would abandon me and hurt me, so I pushed her away myself and ended up losing her even faster!"

… Sarah was, indeed, becoming hysterical. "No, it's too late! I've lost her! I've lost her!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sarah, of course you haven't." He continued to hold her, awkwardly, until she calmed down.

Little did he suspect that at that moment, he was losing Samantha, too.

~~~

Samantha shivered as the door flung open with another customer and a blast of icy air met them. Her own butterbeer gone, she picked up what she assumed to be Remus' goblet and took a long sip, letting the warmth of the liquid seep through her bones.

~~~

She [Sarah – present day] tore at the letter eagerly, but stopped, petrified, as it fell open in her hands. She got as far as the first line, "Dear Aunt Sarah," before she began to scream. "Nick! _Nicholas_!" Her voice shaking, her hands going cold, everything swirling into nothingness around her, she was able to retain consciousness just long enough to be assured of her husband's coming toward her before collapsing into his arms.

Her last words before slipping into darkness were, "I've lost Elizabeth, too."

And finally . . .

****

Chapter Twelve: Under the Cover of Night

"Harry!" Elizabeth called as she jogged to catch up to him. "Hermione said you wanted to see me?"

"Er, yeah," Harry replied uncertainly. Quidditch practice had just ended and he was putting away the last of the equipment. Locking the broom cabinet and shouldering his Firebolt, he joined Elizabeth and the two set off back toward the castle. "But I didn't mean _immediately_."

"I know, but Hermione was helping me with some of the Transfiguration I'm behind on from last year and I really needed a break."

Harry's grin was just visible under the star-studded sky. The dark was coming on fast and there was no moon tonight to balance it. After a minute he asked, "So you're catching up on all your work then?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I'm almost done with all the make-up work from last year, but I'm still not doing so well in Charms."

"But that's your best subject."

"I know, but I abandoned it before because I was already ahead and I was so immersed in finding out about Intoned Charms that my grade just plummeted."

"Yes," Harry said patiently, "that's why we asked you to stop coming to Quidditch practices. But haven't you fixed that by now?"

"You want me to come back to practices, don't you?" she cried ecstatically.

Harry's tone remained the same. "You _have_ improved your scores in Charms, haven't you?"

"You guys miss me! You miss challenging me to catch the Snitch, you miss having an outsider push you to improve . . ."

"Have your Charms grades improved?" he repeated.

". . . you miss how much fun it is when a non-team member makes everything more light-hearted . . ."

"Elizabeth!"

"No."

"What?! Why not?"

She sighed. "I can do all the Charms; that was never a problem. I just skipped a paper or two in there. The only way to make it up is by extra-credit, but I'm afraid to ask Professor Flitwick about it."

"Why?"

"He looks at me so, so . . ." Elizabeth looked at Harry with pleading eyes, as if begging him to understand without having to complete the thought. He nodded in gentle encouragement. "Oh, Harry!" she burst emphatically. "I just can't meet him in the eye anymore! I feel like he's furious with me for going against his advice and learning about the Ancient Magic! You saw how he fainted when I slipped up and performed that Intoned Charm to save Neville's Remembrall! It's like all the teachers are walking on pins and needles around me . . . like they're mad, or scared, or . . . something," she finished weakly.

"They're astonished, that's all. Give them time; they'll get over it," Harry said gently.

"Do you think I did anything wrong?"

"By ravaging your health with insensible amounts of work? Yes. By discovering you possess a talent that is widely considered to be extinct? Not at all. That's a _good_ thing, you know."

Elizabeth gave a slight nod and walked on in thoughtful silence until Harry asked, "Will you start coming to practices again? We seemed to be improving a lot more before we banished you . . . and we miss you." 

He was startled when she gave a squeak of pleasure and threw her arms around him. "Of course! Oh, thank you! But Harry," she stepped back. "Why?"

"I figured you could use a break, no matter what your marks are in Charms. And the twins are getting restless with the routine practices we've been having. We could use a little something new." He smiled; her grin was infectious. "Can I ask you a favor?" he asked.

She laughed. "I'm so thrilled I'd do anything right now!"

"I was wondering . . . when I write my next letter to Sirius, can I ask him about Samantha?"

Elizabeth stopped walking and turned until she could just make out Harry's face in the pale light filtering down from a castle window. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I just think there's more to the story than he's telling us. Sirius knows a lot, you know. And I have a feeling he knew your mother better than he claims."

Elizabeth was about to spill her theories on the situation, which all ran along the same idea, when a voice, hurrying down from the front steps of the castle, met their ears.

"Miss Satine! Elizabeth!" Professor McGonagall was walking briskly toward them, and Elizabeth knew something unusual had happened when the professor did not even bother to ask the two students why they were out of the school in the dark. There was a letter clutched in her right hand, which she held out before Elizabeth upon reaching her. Elizabeth took it, but her eyes never left McGonagall's face. She waited. "It's from your father," McGonagall explained as soon as she had regained her breath. 

"You mean my Uncle Nick," Elizabeth amended, causing her teacher's face to go momentarily rigid.

McGonagall, wisely decided not to enter into a family issue that was not rightfully her business, continued, "It's about Sarah. She's fallen incredibly ill and they are afraid they cannot have you home for Christmas, as they do not want to risk you getting sick as well, dear." 

__

That's a good excuse so that no one will suspect me when I refuse to go home over holidays, Elizabeth thought, but she became increasingly worried as McGonagall continued. It was obvious that Sarah really _was _sick. 

"They are not sure what it is, exactly, but it is some sort of magical malady that has confined her to bed. She is weak and cannot exert any energy," here the professor paused, before continuing in a tone she hoped would not worry the teenage girl, "and she seems to have lost all magical ability for the time being. The doctors are watching her day and night and are assured she is in no immediate danger, but they cannot predict when she will recover. I am sorry dear, but please know all the staff, especially me, will be here to ensure you have a good holiday at Hogwarts and to keep you updated. I'm quite sure she will be all right. Sarah has a strong disposition if I ever saw one. Now come, let me escort you two back to Gryffindor Tower. What you are doing out at this hour I cannot imagine!" But she spotted the broomstick on Harry's shoulder, and allowed her approval for the Gryffindor Quidditch team's long practices (and increased chances at winning the Cup) to outweigh her disapproval.

"We can walk back on our own, thank you, Professor," Elizabeth assured her. It looked to her like Professor McGonagall was in need of a strong cup of tea. "You should get some rest."

The Professor indeed looked flustered. "Why, yes, dear, thank you, I think I shall. But are sure you're all right?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I'll be okay," she murmured. "As long as she's not in any danger of dying . . ."

"Oh, no, dear, nowhere close!"

". . . then there's no use worrying myself sick over it."

"Of course not. Goodness knows you look pale enough already. Good night, Elizabeth, Harry." 

"But Professor," Elizabeth called, just as McGonagall had turned in the other direction. "How is that you know my Aunt Sarah so well?"

The agitation on the professor's face visibly increased. "Your Aunt Sarah," she began cautiously, "and I worked together for a few years on an investigation of sorts and became close friends."

"The investigation about Samantha," Elizabeth nodded. "Good night, Professor McGonagall," she added quickly, suddenly wishing to be in Gryffindor Tower where she wouldn't be in risk of having a teacher suddenly ask her how she had discovered Nicholas and Sarah Reyes were her uncle and aunt.

"Goodnight," McGonagall repeated and watched as the teenagers strolled out of sight. So the truth had finally come out. She had known it wouldn't be too long before Elizabeth discovered it. When she'd closed this case twelve years ago, she had known it wasn't over yet. Gazing after Elizabeth's retreating figure, she shook her head as she thought, _I just never thought it would come back to haunt me in the form of a sweet teenage girl. _She sighed and made her way up to Dumbledore's office.

***

"Do you think she's sick because of me? Could my letter really have had that harsh of an effect on her?" Elizabeth lay gazing up at the vibrant hangings of her four-poster the next morning voicing the thoughts that had plagued her all night.

"Honestly, Elizabeth, don't be ridiculous," Hermione replied as she pulled a brush through her thick brown hair. "It's probably just some wizard's flu or something."

"But the doctors have never seen anything like it."

"Muggle doctors or magical?"

"Magical, I suppose."

"But you don't know for sure, so don't worry about it yet."

Elizabeth gave a weak smile and kicked fruitlessly at her heavy winter quilt. "You're right, Hermione. It's good to have you around . . . but, oh!" Hermione whirled around to see Elizabeth leap out of bed suddenly with a thunderstruck look on her face.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

The response made her roll her eyes. "I promised Harry I'd practice a Quidditch move with him before the game today! I was supposed to be up hours ago!" 

She rushed out of her room, skidding to a halt in front of the boys' dormitory. "Harry!" she whispered fiercely through the door. "Harry, are you still in there?"

A groggy Ron answered. "Watcha want, 'Lizbeth?" he muttered, barely suppressing a yawn.

"Is Harry up?"

"No, wh –" he hadn't even finished the question before Elizabeth had burst past him into the room. She strode deliberately over to Harry's bed and stood over it with her hands perched on her hips in an annoyed gesture.

"Harry! _Harry!_" she said in an impatient whisper. He rolled over to face her, moaning in his half-consciousness. "Honestly, Harry!" she scolded. "You know how I hate waking up early and that I would only agree to do so if it was for something important! It took you forever to convince me to practice with you this morning. Now I'll admit I'm a little late, but look at you! Still in . . ." she broke off abruptly as she really did look at him. His face was pale and a sheen of sweat glowed over it in the weak early-morning sunshine. She took an involuntary step back when his eyelids fluttered open to reveal two glassy, bloodshot eyes, their emerald color significantly dimmed. 

As Elizabeth stood there, one hand poised over her heart in shock, Ginny Weasley burst into the room, obviously in a rush. "Ron! You're up! Oh thank goodness! I need you to help me find my light blue cardigan; I think Mum might've packed it with your . . ." She had already crossed the room and opened Ron's trunk when she noticed Elizabeth was there. "What are you . . ." she broke off in the same shock as Elizabeth had as her eyes traveled to the object of Elizabeth's gaze. "Harry! Good heavens!"

Elizabeth had never been more relieved to see Ginny in her life as the petite red-head immediately rushed to Harry's side and began feeling his forehead and checking his pulse in a gentle manner that came naturally to a sweet little sister who was accustomed to looking after her older brothers. "He's burning up!" she exclaimed. "Ron, fetch me a cold, wet rag. Neville, could you get him a glass of water? And Dean or Seamus, call Madame Pomfrey up here immediately; I don't think he'll be able to make it to the Hospital Wing himself." 

As all the boys scurried off, Ginny turned to Elizabeth. "What happened?" she asked quietly. 

It took Elizabeth a moment to find her voice, and even then it felt like the words clung to her dry mouth. "I don't know. I just came to wake him up and he was like this. He was perfectly fine last night." Before Ginny could do more than nod thoughtfully, Elizabeth added, "I have to go," and rushed out of the room before Ginny had the chance to protest.

Upon reaching her own dormitory, she collapsed onto the bed dejectedly. She felt faint, and her heart was beating fast, but she wasn't sure why. _Why did I flee like that? Ginny certainly could have used my help._ But she also knew that as long as she was in that room, the panic pounding through her head would have prevented her from being of any use. _Why?_

She couldn't think, she had to get out, escape somewhere. She rushed through the Common Room and toward the portrait hole, but as soon as she stepped through she found herself face to face with Fred and George. She attempted to hurry past, but George grabbed her arm. "Elizabeth, wait! Did you hear about Harry? We met Dean and Seamus on the way to get Madame Pomfrey and they say he's really sick." Elizabeth didn't want to hear this, she already felt sick to her stomach. She tried to pull away, but in vain. "Listen, Lizzy, I know it's not the best time to be worried about Quidditch, but Harry wouldn't want us to forfeit the match for a silly fever. You have to play Seeker for him! Will you?"

She tore off down the hall without responding. The twins stared after her blankly. "What's gotten into her?"

***

Elizabeth paused in her mad dash down the fourth floor corridor to catch her breath, but once her heart had resumed a somewhat normal pace, she set off again. It felt good to simply run, even if she had no idea where she was going. But suddenly she did. With an idea that was based more on intuition than sense, she took a sharp right, skidding to a stop in front of a door a few yards later. McGonagall's office.

She knocked; no one answered. Her heart pounding even faster than when she had been moving, she reached for the doorknob. It was locked, and a tap of the wand with a simple _'Alohomora!' _did not work, but then she never expected it to. Instead she held the cool silver knob cradled gently in her palm, closed her eyes, and let her power settle into the knob itself, carefully channeling magic with her mind. When she felt she had it, she whispered again, "Alohomora," and this time was rewarded with a successful click as the lock unlatched. 

She stepped inside cautiously, unsure where to look. Perhaps she was being ridiculous and had just broken into a teacher's office for no reason. But it had to be there; she could _feel_ that it was there. _If Sarah ever received it, it would have been handed over to McGonagall as evidence_, she rationalized. Still, reason was getting her nowhere. She had no idea where to look. She closed her eyes, focused her mind, and whispered, "Point me." When she opened them again, her eyes were immediately drawn to a chest of drawers in the back of the room. Towards this she made her way, and when she had intoned the top drawer to open, there it was – the letter. 

She snatched it triumphantly and fled.

***

In the surge of energy that followed her successful letter-napping mission, Elizabeth regained some control over her emotions and found herself stopping at the door to the hospital wing without trepidation. She wanted foremost to see how Harry was doing, although if the lump that formed in her throat at the mere thought of him was any omen, she couldn't expect much improvement. She was also hoping to talk with him. He had seen the look in Sirius' eyes the other day in Hogsmeade; he knew there was more to all this than his godfather was saying. She just hoped he had a clue as to what. But Harry dashed all these hopes from her mind the moment she had persuaded Madam Pomfrey to let her enter.

"Elizabeth!" he cried, trying in vain to sit up, but falling back against his pillow in weakness. Elizabeth winced at the sickly color of his face. "Did Fred and George find you?"

She sighed. "I can't do it, Harry." The pleading look in his eyes forced her to bite back tears.

"But you promised! Back in one of the first practices you joined, remember? You promised to jump in as reserve Seeker if we ever need you to!"

"I know, Harry, but I honestly never thought it would come down to me taking your place."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cuz getting injured at Hogwarts is such a rare occurrence. There are no hazards that could keep me off the field _here_."

Elizabeth sighed in frustration. "I don't fly for competition, Harry. I fly for fun."

"All the flying you've done these past few months has been to help our team practice. That sounds like competition to me."

"_Preparing_ for competition. It's completely different. I want Gryffindor to win, and to win you need to practice."

"And a Seeker; you can't do much without one, you know. If you truly wanted Gryffindor to win, you'd play for me this afternoon."

"Maybe you'll be better by then." 

Elizabeth gave Harry a hopeful smile, and he looked back with raised eyebrows. Then his expression sobered. Elizabeth watched, wide-eyed, as he pulled his wand out of his pocket. For a moment she had the ridiculous thought that he was going to curse her into playing, but then she knew exactly what was coming. _"Lumos!"_ he whispered. Nothing happened. Another wave of nausea crashed down on her, similar to the feeling she'd had that morning_. "She is weak and cannot exert any energy and she seems to have lost all magical ability for the time being."_ Remembering McGonagall's words about Sarah seemed to freeze her heart in place. And now Harry . . . She couldn't keep back the feeling that this was all her fault.

"Oh, all right!" she conceded, hoping to break the tension. "If it means so much to you, I'll take your place as Seeker in the match!"

Harry laughed, and even the light force of such an action caused him to cringe in pain. But he was pleased enough to grin, "Not like you ever had a choice. All of Gryffindor would be furious if you refused. I'm sure Fred and George have already boasted of the excellent replacement they found to the entire house."

"The entire house? I have to let down the entire house?" she repeated, blood rushing from her face.

Harry sighed.

"B-but I haven't even been to practice in weeks! How can I . . ?"

"Elizabeth," he said gently. "You'll be fine. Look, we'll just go over everything right now."  
"Harry, you're not well enough." He nearly laughed at how solemn her face became. Ron's theories about the Satines may have had a certain degree of ridiculousness, but Elizabeth certainly did possess that protective nature . . .

"I'm fine to talk," he replied. "And I could certainly use the company." Elizabeth nodded and perched on the edge of his bed. 

Before long, an entire hour had disappeared in rapid Quidditch discussion. Nervous as she was about the upcoming match, and worried as she was about Harry's health, Elizabeth had welcomed the brief respite that her conversation with him had offered. She noticed that it took a lot these days to tear her mind from the unsettling events of the past, and she was not surprised when they surfaced once again as soon as she left the infirmary. With a sigh, she made her way to the library and curled up at a table in a dark corner. Not as cozy as by the fire in the common room, of course, but she was not in much of a mood to be surrounded by Gryffindors anticipating the impending match.

The vision of Samantha writing by candlelight with shadows under her eyes hovered before Elizabeth as she carefully removed the letter from the safety of her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the worn, cream-colored parchment. And there was Samantha's flowing script handwriting . . .

__

Sarah,

I have so much to tell you, but it will have to wait until we are together again. You cannot imagine how I long to see your face… I'm coming home. I know I've been long absent, but one day soon you shall see me dance in through the doorway once again and we will talk and laugh and be the sisters we always should have been. I cannot tell you where I am, but my search has not been in vain. I told you she had a daughter, the day I last heard your voice, do you remember? Well, I have found the proof of it now. And just as I promised, my daughter shall be named after her. My daughter. It makes me shiver just to write it. 

Please do not speak of this yet, because I'm still not sure what will happen next. I don't know much. I don't know if you'll ever believe me, I don't know if Sirius will ever forgive me, and I don't know what will happen to this child. But I know this: I love her, and she's given me the strength to finally break free. And Sarah – she'll have the power. 

Tell Sirius I love him. I'll be home with you soon.

Love always, your sister,

Samantha

Elizabeth, fingering her mother's handwriting gently, felt no surge of emotion, no mournful longing . . .but there was a terseness in the air as she folded the letter and placed it carefully in her pocket – an indefinite suspension, like she was hanging in midair waiting for whatever was coming. _Something's building . . . _she could feel it as she silently exited the library and went in search of Fred and George. Perhaps it would be good to get up in the air for awhile and escape the foreboding feeling that was following her. _But then again, if I can't leave it on the ground . . ._ She shuddered to think of the consequences that could result if she were preoccupied in the air. _Fred and George had better be five times as good as those Ravenclaw beaters . . ._

***

The wind rose in a violent wail as Elizabeth stepped out onto the Quidditch pitch that afternoon. Her head was spinning and she felt sick to her stomach. As she looked up, she realized the howling in her ears was not the wind at all, but the cheers of stands packed with eager spectators. She bit her lip as the thought that she should not be flying crossed her mind for the hundredth time that day. She felt cold, breathless, shaky . . . but before she knew it, she had mounted her broom and was shooting into the blustery sky at the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle. 

Lee Jordan's voice cut across the stands. "It looks like Potter won't be playing today – rumor has it he has yet to recover from a nasty prank courtesy of the Weasley twins this morning – but what a pretty replacement those two rascals have dug up . . ." 

Elizabeth tuned out the sounds around her and focused on seeing through the veil of hair that whipped sharply across her face. If only she had had the presence of mind to pull it back . . . She sighed in exasperation. She had to find that Snitch and end this game before the stresses of the day managed to collapse on her and render her already foggy mind completely senseless.

She was aware of the Gryffindor Chasers moving seamlessly below her, and she turned long enough to watch Angelina Johnson score a third goal on the Ravenclaw keeper. On the other end of the pitch, Ron let out an ecstatic whoop. Elizabeth smiled slightly – it was good to see him so energetic after how worn he had appeared this morning when Harry was discovered to be ill – but something else from the corner of her eye caught her attention just then. 

As if in a dream, her teammates and the Ravenclaw players faded, to be replaced by a different set of teams – an alternate Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match. A boy wearing the scarlet red robes of Gryffindor darted before her eyes, weaving in and out of the other players. Elizabeth had seen him before in her dreams, but this time she knew who he was. "Oi, James!" Sirius called to a boy with messy black hair, who was clinging to the Quaffle, desperately searching for a way out of the three blue-clad Chasers and two Bludgers that were pummeling towards him. James flung the red ball from his arms, and Sirius caught it with deft skill. Before the opposition could catch on, he was hurtling towards the gold hoops rising far above the pitch. The applause was deafening as the Quaffle sailed effortlessly past the Keeper. Sirius grinned and turned towards the stands, his eyes twinkling in triumph . . . and then his face fell. He frowned, and Elizabeth turned to follow his gaze. 

A girl was sitting in the stands, paying no attention to the game whatsoever. Elizabeth's heart gave a sickening somersault as she realized who it was. Samantha had a thick book in her hands, and her soft brown curls brushed the pages as she pored over it, absorbed. All around her students cheered, and a bright-eyed Lily Potter turned to her, crying, "Sammy! Did you see that spectacular play the boys just pulled off?" Her cheeks were tinged with excitement, nearly matching the color of her vibrant red hair. Samantha turned an unfeeling gaze on her, shrugged, and went back to her book. 

Elizabeth gulped; Sirius was hovering almost right beside her, and she had a close-up view of his face as a spasm of pain flickered across it. He willed Samantha to look at him, to cheer with him. Finally she lifted her eyes to meet his, her eyebrows raised in a manner clearly expressing annoyance. He stared at her, and a struggle seemed to be raging within him, but Elizabeth couldn't be sure what it was. Suddenly, a bright red object came hurtling towards him, and Sirius nearly tumbled off his broom. The Quaffle dropped into the possession of the Ravenclaws amid a sea of groans from the Gryffindor stands. "Sirius! What do you think you're doing?!" James Potter's voice could be heard over the noise. Samantha smirked at Sirius and returned to her book; and Sirius, severely disheartened, slowly returned to the thick of the game. 

"Elizabeth!" Fred's desperate voice penetrated Elizabeth's vision, jilting her back to the game at hand. She jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being creamed by a Bludger, and shook her head, trying to regain her wits. It had seemed so _real_. She could have sworn Sirius had been flying right there beside her. But he was gone, and the telltale signs of Lily's bright hair and Samantha's big book had disappeared from the stands. 

Fred zoomed past her, whacking the Bludger and sending it sailing towards a Ravenclaw Chaser, before returning to her side. "What was that?" His voice was painfully loud all of a sudden. "It looked like you were in a trance or something. I don't think it's necessary to look _that_ hard!" He paused when he realized she wasn't listening; her eyes were trained on the opposite end of the field. "What?" he asked. "Do you see the Snitch?"

She did; it was glittering about midway up the right Gryffindor goalpost, but this wasn't what had attracted her attention. Ron's face, which had been glowing with the healthful exuberance of exertion just a moment ago, had gone pale. His eyes looked glassy even from this distance, and his lips were pursed in a thin, white line. He seemed to be shaking on his broom. Elizabeth didn't pause for a second; she was tearing down the pitch at top speed to get to him. _I have to reach him_, she thought desperately, _it will be all my fault if he falls._

She could feel Fred right behind her as she neared the golden hoops. "Grab the Snitch!" he bellowed in her ear. "I've got Ron!" She wanted to ignore him, but the thought of Harry made her obey. The guilt of his illness weighed inexplicably hard upon her. And now Ron, too . . . if she lost this game for them on top of everything else . . . She curved into a sharp dive and felt the warmth of the fluttering Snitch settle into her palm. At the same moment as she was pulling up, she saw Ron's eyes roll back in his head, and watched as he slumped limply off his broom, thankfully right into his brother's arms. 

The stands were in an uproar. Some were yelling themselves hoarse with the thrill of victory, others were staring at Ron in varied degrees of shock and concern, and still more were trying to figure out what exactly had happened. Even the other team members, who had all been focused on a play taking place down at the Ravenclaw end of the pitch, were not all aware that the game had ended.

Angelina, finally discerning that their Seeker held the Snitch, let out a whoop, cried, "Come on, girls, we've won!", dropped the Quaffle, and tore off down the pitch, her fellow Chasers close behind. But when she reached the Gryffindor end of the field and joined the rest of the team on the ground, she stopped short. "Goodness, Liz, what's wrong?" she asked, thoroughly startled by the tears streaming silently from the girl's big eyes.

Fred looked up at this exclamation and frowned. "Now, really, Elizabeth, he's probably just caught the flu from Harry. They sleep in the same dorm after all. It's nothing to cry about."

Elizabeth trembled. To be honest, she wasn't sure why she was feeling like this. This was the second time that day when she had completely lost hold over her emotions – this morning the sight of Harry had made her abandon him and Ginny, and now she was standing on the Quidditch pitch, in the midst of the entire school, unable to stem her tears.

Fred was still waiting for an answer, but instead of the simple, "You're right; I'll be fine," that she planned to give, she burst forth with, "This is all my fault!"

"Elizabeth!" Angelina chided. "That's ridiculous!"

"You saved him, if anything," Fred added. "You were the one who noticed he was about to fall."

"But it is!" she sobbed through growing tears. "Ron, Harry, Aunt Sarah . . . it's all my fault!"

"Aunt who?" asked Fred.

"See?" whispered George. "I told you she's been going nutters lately."

"How?" Angelina inquired gently. "How is this your fault?"

If Fred and George had been annoyed by Elizabeth's ridiculous assertions before, these sentiments faded into genuine worry at the look of utter helplessness that now overwhelmed her face. "That's just it . . . I don't know," she whispered, her own terror at the thought stopping her tears.

There was a brief silence, interrupted by the gentle voice of reason that was Hermione Granger. "Let's get Ron to the hospital wing."

***

When Elizabeth awoke, it was dark. She rubbed her eyes furiously in an attempt to recall where she was. Then she spotted a tuft of red hair tousled on a pristine pillow. Ron, her mind registered. He was asleep on a low bed, a small nightstand, where lay a pair of glasses, separating it from a second bed – Harry. The hospital wing. She remembered now – after the game she had insisted that Madame Pomfrey allow her to stay with the two boys. Hermione and Ginny had been there for a long time, too, but had left around ten, insisting that Elizabeth join them soon.

She must have fallen asleep in her chair soon afterwards. What time was it now? She glanced at her watch – just before midnight. Why hadn't Madame Pomfrey shooed her out yet? She glanced around, but the matron was nowhere to be seen. She wanted to leave, to go back to her dorm and get some real sleep, but she could not just leave Harry and Ron without any care.

__

I'll just wait ten minutes, she thought. The matron couldn't be far off. Settling back in her chair, Elizabeth closed her eyes. A chill shiver worked its way down her spine… she'd had that dream again while sleeping beside the two boys, but she could recall nothing more than the sickening feeling in her stomach that it always caused. How could it be so vivid while she was dreaming it, yet vanish like a wisp of smoke when she awoke? She could always recall her dreams. _Maybe I don't want to remember this one . . ._

Not desiring to dwell on the thought, she was about to go off in search of Madame Pomfrey when that very woman's voice drifted in from the hallway. ". . . and you say she just dropped without warning?" she was asking. 

Elizabeth stiffened, attempting to flatten herself against her chair in order to pass unnoticed. 

A second voice gave its assent. It was Flitwick. "Right in the middle of a sentence when her eyes rolled back and she passed out . . ."

"Goodness," Madam Pomfrey murmured. "As if I don't have enough on my hands without the beginning of an epidemic." There was a rustling behind the curtain just a hand length from Elizabeth as whoever it was was placed gently on a bed. The matron's voice dropped to a whisper. "She looks just like the others." She sounded genuinely frightened. 

Elizabeth heard her move to the medicine cabinet. Glancing at the motionless figures of Ron and Harry beside her, her hand tightened to a deathly grip on her chair. _Please not Hermione, please not Hermione . . ._ her mind began chanting as slowly, slowly, she moved to see around the curtain . . . her throat seized up.

It was McGonagall. 

Elizabeth couldn't move; she was frozen, half peering beyond the curtain, half behind it, anchored to her chair. Madam Pomfrey, returning with several bottles, gasped at the sight of her. "Miss Satine! Well, I never! What exactly do you thing you're doing, young lady?"

Elizabeth took one look at her exasperated expression, and at Flitwick's solemn, puzzled one behind her, before tearing from the hospital wing in a surge of panic.

"Miss Satine!" The matron's voice rang out behind her, but Elizabeth was long gone, racing through corridors, head pounding. And just as before, a direction suddenly became clear to her. Taking a sharp right, she found her way to the entrance hall unimpeded, pausing only slightly to catch her breath before opening the great oak front doors and slipping silently out into the dark cover of night.

She'd made up her mind – she had to see Sirius.


	13. Love, Unconditional

****

Author's Note: A long, angsty chapter… I was actually planning to post this simultaneously with the next chapter (once it's written), because that's when you finally get all the explanations you've been waiting for (and you'll probably want them, after reading this). The only reason I'm posting this now is because I made the mistake of telling three people who I see almost every day that chapter 13 is complete, and they'd strangle me if I waited any longer to put it up. But the rest of you might be advised to wait to read this until 14 is up. Not that you'll be hurt by waiting, you'll all be reading the fifth book by the time you discover this, and who will have time to think about fanfiction then? Certainly not me ^_^

So – Caroline, Margaret, Sidra – this one's for you.

****

****

Chapter Thirteen: Love, Unconditional

__

She caught him staring at her rounded stomach for the fourth time in ten minutes. "I know what you're thinking," she said, challenging his eyes to meet hers.

"Of course you do; you always do. Good old Satine intuition, right?" His voice was sour, and he turned his head away.

When she remained quiet, he continued. "You knew what was going to happen all along, didn't you? You knew you were going to leave us. That's why you pulled away, isn't it?" No response. "Isn't it, Samantha?!" his voice rose uncontrollably.

"I didn't know, Sirius… I never planned…" But he wouldn't hear it.

"God, Sammy! Don't you know how much that hurt us – all of us? Maybe you never cared for me. I certainly thought you did at one point, but maybe I was just too infatuated to see. But Lily_, Sam! It just killed Lily! I've never seen a face more full of shock and pain as that day in the entrance hall! And then me…" his voice dropped, "you knew how much I loved you; you saw me stand by you when no one else would. And yet…" his eyes returned to stare balefully at her stomach. "And yet…"_

"Sirius," her eyes were full of tears now, her voice barely audible beneath its trembling. "Don't judge me by that day. I came back to you, didn't I? To Lily and James and Remus and Sarah… I thought you forgave me."

"That's not my point. You knew way back then that you would run off and abandon everyone who loved you. You tried to distance us to spare us the pain of your departure; I know you well enough to realize that. But you realized you weren't ready to leave. Too scared, were you? To go off into the world on your own? So you worked your magic and won us over again? Did you never pause to realize how much worse that would make it when you betrayed us a second time?"

"Sirius! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, but you_ do? All-knowing Lady Sam, right? Did it ever occur to you that maybe just once in your charmed little life that you could be wrong?!? But no, you always know… you knew I wasn't right for you, and so you left, and now that you need help, you've returned."_

He sighed. "Because you know."

She hesitated. "Know what?"

"That I still love you."

*~*~*

As she raced through the tunnel into Hogsmeade, Elizabeth tried to focus her mind on what she would say to Sirius when she reached him, but for some reason, memories of her childhood with Sarah kept invading her thoughts. Elizabeth had been six years old when she'd discovered the box of photos hidden away in Sarah's closet –

__

"Mama, who's the pretty girl in all these pictures with you?"

"That's… my sister. Samantha. Your aunt."

"What happened to her?"

"Don't ask questions. Some things are better left alone, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth sighed. It seemed ridiculous that years more of curious badgering had uncovered little more information than that. _"She was my sister. No, we can't visit her, honey; she died when she was young. Now let's see tonight's homework. Don't look at me like that – go on, get it out."_

Furiously blinking back tears, Elizabeth wondered if perhaps it would be best if things had stayed that way – so simple and clear-cut. But no, tonight would make up for all those years of secrets. Tonight she would know, because she wanted to, and because she _needed_ to. 

She clambered out of the passage with her mind in such disarray that she had made it silently through Honeydukes and out onto the street before she'd given it a thought. She took a left and headed off toward the Shrieking Shack, where she knew, from Harry's letters, that Sirius had taken up temporary residence.

But when she entered several minutes later, she had no idea what to say. She found Sirius in an upstairs room that looked nothing like the rest of the old shack – it was dusted and sparsely filled with somewhat-presentable looking old furniture. Light glowed dimly from a fireplace in the corner and several candles in an old chandelier burned above her head. Sirius looked up from his tattered armchair by the fire as Elizabeth entered, looking only slightly surprised to see her.

"Hey," she said softly.

"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?" His eyes looked so tired that Elizabeth could feel the rush of adrenaline draining out of her just looking at him.

She turned away awkwardly. "I just… needed to talk… I needed some, er, adult guidance…" her voice trailed off uncomfortably.

He looked at her skeptically. "At one in the morning?"

She gave a weak nod, beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. This man had suffered so much already; was it fair to burden him more?  
"Aren't your teachers adults? Surely you could talk to one of them. Or your parents…" his voice choked a little. She knew he didn't believe her, but he seemed to be as reluctant to give up the pretense of her excuse as she was.

She was about to tell him the truth when he spoke again, roughly. "Look, I know why you're here. It's an inherited trait, that Satine intuition, and it's led you to me even if you don't know why. But it's not my place to tell you anything, so I recommend you just go."

Elizabeth stared at him, her brow furrowed. Then she took a breath. "Sirius," she said. "I know Samantha was my mother. And I know there was something between you two."

"How?"

She shrugged. "Good old 'Satine intuition?'" she ventured, giving him a weak smile. He didn't return it.

"Please, Sirius," she begged. "I need to know… are you my father?"

He looked at her sharply. "Don't play games with me, Elizabeth," he said sharply. "You know I'm not."

She hung her head. "I know, but… I need to know the truth."  
"You don't _want_ to know the truth." Sirius felt his heart breaking as he looked at the teenage girl standing before him. She was so young and beautiful, so much like her mother. And now she knew who that mother was. He felt so torn – for years he had wanted her to know everything, so that he could finally have someone to remember Samantha with, and so he could finally fulfill his promise to her. Now that the moment had arrived, however, he wanted nothing more than to keep this child from knowing more. He alternately wanted to run to her and embrace her like a daughter, and tell her to flee from him before he could tell her the truth.

He returned to his chair and ran a distracted hand through his hair. _What would Samantha want?_ He shivered at the thought, because he honestly didn't know. The Samantha he knew at Hogwarts would have done anything to spare her child from pain, even if it meant keeping her in the dark. But that young, optimistic Samantha had grown up so fast that he had barely recognized her when she'd returned, years later…

Sirius looked wild and frightening, and Elizabeth, feeling uncomfortable, decided to try a different subject. "Er… there was a Quidditch match today… we won…" She trailed off, remembering exactly _how_ they had won and realizing that perhaps she didn't want to get off on the topic of Harry and Ron. 

She was about to try something else when Sirius finally looked up, a solemn, far-off look tainting his features. "That's when I first noticed, at a Quidditch match…"

Something in his glance made Elizabeth look down. She felt guilty; this was not something he wanted to talk about, but she couldn't help her next question – "When you first noticed you loved her?"

Tears filled his eyes. "Elizabeth," he whispered, trying to blink them back, "I loved your mother from the day I met her, I was just too young to know it. It's a foolish thing to regret, because what eleven-year-old boy isn't blind to destined love? But I wish I could have seen it from the beginning. As it was, I wasted four years playing senseless pranks her, and by the time I realized what she meant to me, it was too late. Fate had already marked her out…"

*~*~*

"Sam Satine, what's gotten into you?" Lily asked her friend as the two girls pushed their way through the post-match crowds. 

Samantha barely looked up. "Huh?" she asked, clutching the book in her arms closer to her chest to protect it from the jostling of the students.

"You were the most exuberant Quidditch fan I knew even before you started dating someone on the team, and afterwards, well…" Lily shrugged her shoulders with a lopsided grin, "…it's safe to say that watching _you_ watch a Quidditch match was almost as exciting as watching the game itself."

"I hope you didn't waste your time watching me instead of James. We wouldn't want a repeat of all the jealous pranks he pulled on me our first four years."

"I watched you enough to know you weren't watching at all."

"Your point?"

Lily was beginning to be annoyed by Samantha's attitude: brisk, bordering on cold. "What's so important about that book that could make you hurt Sirius like that?"

"What about me?" came a bright voice from behind them.

Lily whirled around to see Sirius and James breaking away from cheering Gryffindors to join the girls. Samantha turned around mildly. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asked Sirius.

Something like pain flashed across his face, but in an instant his dashing smile returned. "A little beat up from that bludger that got my shoulder, but nothing that can't be fixed by a hug from my darling Lady Sam." 

He reached to embrace her, but she pulled away, a disgusted look on her face. "Honestly, Sirius, don't touch me when you're sweaty," she scoffed, sending him a petulant roll of the eyes. Lily gaped at her friend, but before she could voice her incredulity, Samantha was leaving. 

"I'm going to the library," she said. "Post-Quidditch parties get tiring after awhile, so it's not like I'll be missing anything."

She missed the heart-wrenching expression on Sirius' face, but obviously, Lily realized, she was missing a great deal.

***

Lily smiled – it was a beautiful Saturday morning, she was curled up in the Gryffindor common room with a fascinating book, looking up occasionally at Remus and James (who were engrossed in a precarious game of Exploding Snap), and she felt oddly… content. It was so different now that she was with James. Somehow it just made the pressure melt away – she was less high-strung about school-work and rules and even the looming threat of exams in two month's time wasn't having its usual flustering effect on her. James would study with her, James was _brilliant_. In more than academic ways… her stomach flip-flopped and she couldn't refrain from stealing another glance at his face, despite knowing that her own was burning.

He caught her eyes, then sent a meaningful scowl towards the sixth year girl's dormitory. Lily couldn't miss his meaning, but she didn't want to think about this, not now. But when Remus sent her a similar plea, she sighed and reluctantly got up.

"Samantha?" she murmured, when she'd reached the room and had the door open a crack. "You still sleeping?" Sunlight flooded out of the room and into the hallway and she knew her question was ridiculous. But she wanted an excuse. "Are you sick?" she tried again.

She stepped into the room to see Samantha seated casually at the desk by the window. When she turned to face Lily, she was dazzling – eyes sparkling, skin glowing, hair cascading in radiant waves – Lily was startled. She took a step back. _Well, she's obviously not ill_, she thought wryly.

Pulling Lily out of her daze came a voice, musical, lilting… Samantha. "Look at the sun, Lil!" she extolled. "Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Yes, it is…" As Lily's confusion ebbed away it was being quickly replaced by anger. "Samantha, where were you this morning?"

"And it's a Saturday, so we can spend the whole day outside, enjoying it!"

"For breakfast, Sam, remember? We were all going to have a picnic breakfast together and then the boys were going to teach us some new Quidditch moves? Remember, Sam?"

"There is no way I'll be able to do homework today. I need to be out _there_" (gesturing whimsically out the window) "free!"

"We waited, and you didn't come. And after you never showed up last night at the after-party, Sirius, well…"

"I was thinking of walking to Hogsmeade."

"Shut up and listen to me, will you?!?"

Samantha blinked. "Huh?"

Lily, shaking in her frustration, cried, "_Sirius_, Sam!"

"What about him?" Her blank, unconcerned look was unnerving.

"He was heartbroken. We tried to convince him it was nothing to take seriously; that you were probably tired or overworked or something, but oh, Samantha! He just looked so _hurt_. Like there's something pulling you two apart and he knows there's nothing he can do about it."

"Where is he?" Samantha's tone was still light, but Lily felt relieved that she was showing _some _concern. Perhaps this was all some big misunderstanding after all.

"He's on the Quidditch pitch, burning off energy." She slumped down on her bed, feeling suddenly exhausted.

But Samantha just turned back to the window. "Well, that's good then," she commented. "He enjoys that. So that leaves us free to have some fun today. Did you want to come with me? To Hogs…"

Lily tuned her out, her heart racing in sudden worry. This was _Samantha_, the girl who was _crazy_ about Sirius… what was going on?

Samantha was still talking, but Lily started scanning the room for signs… there had to be some sort of explanation. "I didn't know you could draw," she said abruptly, when her eyes alighted on a sketch on the desk. It looked like she had been recently working on it… or staring at it. It was oddly alluring.

Samantha fixed her eyes on it, too, and suddenly all the vivacious energy seemed to drain out of her, replaced by something more relaxed. Serene. Her eyes glazed over as she murmured, "Well, it's easy to draw someone with such a strong presence."

There was silence as both girls stared at the drawing. Lily's eyes traveled over the dark, handsome face of a boy a little older than she was. His eyes were deep and powerful, and his mouth was set in a determined line. The way his hair fell across his forehead and nearly into those incredible eyes was just so… perfect. Lily nearly gave a deep sigh, but caught herself just in time. _James_. The name registered somewhere in the back of her dazed mind. Inevitably, the thought of Sirius followed, and that was enough to bring Lily back to reality. _Because this definitely wasn't Sirius._

"Samantha!" Lily asked suddenly. "Who is this?"

"Hmm? Oh, just a drawing…"

Lily wanted to believe her, but she wasn't sure that she could. She suddenly felt sick just watching the hungry way her friend gazed at the portrait. She shivered, remembering something else. "Did you say something about going to Hogsmeade?" she asked.

"Yeah; wanna come?"

Lily was stunned. She was sure she had heard wrong. "But… it's not a Hogsmeade weekend," she ventured.  
"So?"

"_So_?!? Sam, you can't just leave school any time you want to go to…"

"Fine. I'll just go by myself, then," Samantha interrupted, sweeping out of the dormitory.

Lily stared after her. _What was going on?_ she wondered bewilderedly. Torn between risking serious punishment and making sure her friend didn't make any further foolish decisions, Lily almost let her go. _After all, after how she's behaved she doesn't deserve to have a friend running after her out of concern. _But Lily knew she couldn't let her. Something was wrong and she _would_ get to the bottom of it. She grabbed her cloak and followed.

Out of Gryffindor Tower, down to the Entrance Hall, out the oak front doors and onto the path leading into Hogsmeade she followed, before Samantha finally acknowledged her. And then it was only to say, "Knew you'd come," in a smug way Lily would never have expected to be possible coming from Samantha.

Lily didn't know how to respond, so she just followed in silence until they had entered The Three Broomsticks and Samantha had wound her way to a table hidden in a corner. Lily had never seen the table before, but before she could ask Samantha how she'd known it was there, Madam Rosmerta had appeared, beaming at the girls. "Miss Satine," she said pleasantly. "I see you've brought a friend with you this time."

Samantha returned her friendly smile. "This is Lily Evans. You've probably seen her on Hogwarts weekends."

"Ah, yes! The pretty girl that Potter's so hung up on!" Lily blushed. "Yes, Potter and that friend of his, Black, have caused a lot of trouble in here over the years." She winked at the girls. "Not that I don't love it. Now, what can I get for you Miss Evans?"

"Just a butterbeer, I guess," Lily mumbled, feeling guilty about actually ordering something in the pub. It somehow made the fact that she was in Hogsmeade against the rules even worse.

Rosmerta nodded. "And the usual for you, Sammy?" she asked. Lily peered curiously at her friend, who nodded. "Lovely," Rosmerta continued. "Expecting anyone else?"

"Not today, Rosie," Samantha smiled.

Rosmerta regarded her with a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, I'll be right out then." 

As soon as she left, Lily looked at Samantha suspiciously. "'The usual'?" she asked.

Samantha laughed. "Oh, just a butterbeer with a twist of cinnamon; nothing to worry about, Lil."

"Have you been coming here often?"

Samantha's smile faded. "Lily…" she sighed. "Let's not talk about this, okay?" Her gaze dropped to her napkin and she picked at it absently until Rosmerta brought the drinks.

"There you are, now. I'll just add that to your tab, Sam. You ladies have a lovely afternoon."

Lily watched Rosmerta's turquoise heels click out of sight, and sighed. She didn't know what to say; something was troubling Samantha, but she knew it wouldn't do any good to try and pry it out of her. Samantha may have been as sweet as can be, but she could be awfully stubborn at times. At least she seemed to have lost that haughty attitude she'd been wearing all week. It was strangely comforting to see her looking so unsure of herself again.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Samantha murmured, breaking the silence. Lily looked up, startled, but was careful not to respond. Sure enough, after a short pause, Samantha continued. "I love you all so much – you, Sarah, James, Remus, Peter…" she sighed, "…Sirius. But it all feels so strange lately. Like even though Sarah's being sweeter than ever, I don't know whether to trust her. Her explanation for being so awful was believable, I guess, but it took Sirius' interference to make her realize it. And Sirius… I don't know. You know, he told me he loved me, that night in the fairy haven, and I still haven't said it back. I _want_ to, I just…" she sighed again. "Half the time I love him more than ever, but then I go through these spells where I just can't stand _anyone_. When I was little, Sarah used to tell me I was too sweet and naïve. I think that might be it – I naively think that everyone is as wonderful as they seem, but then I turn around and wonder if I'm just blind. Maybe Sarah's just _pretending_ to be nice, maybe you don't really want to be my friend, maybe Sirius is just using me…"

Lily had been content to let her friend just talk up until now, but at this, she had to exclaim, "Samantha! You know that's not…"

Samantha interrupted, wearily. "I know. I'm just so… confused." She rested her head on her arm on the table. "I dunno, Lily. This is the first time I've felt like myself in weeks."

Lily stared at her, biting her lip in concern. 

"I'm glad you came with me," Samantha murmured, lifting up her head and giving Lily the first genuine smile Lily had seen from her in days. "I'm actually really glad it was you and not someone else."

Lily smiled and took Samantha's arm, deciding it would be best not to dwell on this subject. It confused her too much, and it seemed that Samantha had come to something of a reconciliation within herself anyway. Maybe all she'd needed was a little attention from her best friend. "Come on, then," she said. "We should be getting back." The two girls walked side by side back to the castle.

Lily never asked who else Samantha would have been with it she hadn't been there.

***

James came hurrying up to the girls as soon as they stepped through the portrait hole. "Lil," he said, rushing up to her with a worried frown. "Where've you been?"

Samantha smiled as Lily was pulled away from her and into James' tight embrace. It felt so good to be back with her friends. She mentally scolded herself for having been so distant the past few weeks.

"What's the matter?" Lily was asking.

James ran a hand through his messy hair. "There was just a prefect's meeting, and you missed it." He narrowed his eyes at Samantha. "You did, too, come to think of it," he added. Samantha shivered. She and James were still more distant than the rest in their group, as they'd only just started becoming friends, and his looks could still be less-than-friendly on occasion.

"A prefect's meeting?" Lily asked, frowning. "There wasn't one scheduled."

"I know, you would have been there if you'd known about it," he laughed half-heartedly, then shook his head. "It was about all the Dark activity that seems to be building up lately. Nothing serious," he added hastily as Lily's face blanched, "McGonagall and Dumbledore just thought it'd be best if the prefects started scheduling regular meetings just to keep up to date on current events, so that if, you know, something serious _does_ happen, we'll be ready to give our houses well-informed accounts."

Lily sighed. Rumors of the Dark Lord and his followers had been rampant for years now, but being snuggled safely away at Hogwarts had a way of making her forget them.

Samantha was shaking all of a sudden, but she wasn't exactly sure why. None of this was new to her, the Satine family had been fighting Dark wizards for years, but the mention of it seemed to be affecting her worse than usual. _And just when things were starting to feel better_, she thought, looking at Lily sadly.

She started off toward her dormitory, needing to be alone, when a warm arm encircled her shoulders. "You okay?" Sirius whispered in her ear. She felt a sudden overwhelming wave of gratitude toward him, and hugged him close. He seemed surprised.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured into his chest, and he relaxed against her.

"It's okay," he replied.

"No, it's not. I should have been there this morning, and after the Quidditch match, and I've just been so horrible and…"

He pulled her closer to silence her. "Shh… I said it's okay. I know something's been troubling you and however long it takes you to work it out, I'll be right here, alright?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and she slowly pulled away. "I'm going to go upstairs and get some rest. And I still have that article for the _Observer _to write…"

"You want help?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll… talk to you later?"

She looked so weak and lost that he wished she'd talk to him _now_.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said.

With a sigh, he watched her walk away.

***

The next morning Lily awoke early. Sunday breakfasts were always the best, and she didn't want to miss out. She felt strangely content today, even though, what with disobeying a major Hogwarts rule by sneaking into Hogsmeade and then missing that prefect's meeting, yesterday shouldn't have made her feel so relieved. But it did; it had just felt so _good_ to see Samantha in Sirius' arms again, even if only briefly. 

She snatched a copy of the weekly _Hogwarts Observer_ from the pile just outside the Great Hall, and opened it to her favorite section as soon as she was seated at the Gryffindor table.

She stared at Samantha's column in disbelief. _What on earth?!? _She thought. _I thought we'd cleared all this up yesterday!_ Breakfast forgotten, she read the article, hoping against hope that this was all some joke.

__

When the Veil Is Lifted

By Lady Sam

__

We all have blind spots where our friends are concerned, but I have to stop and wonder, "Is that fair?" It's always been fine for me to call a certain oily-haired Slytherin a slimy git on occasion, but would I receive the same appreciative laughs were I to turn around and call four friends a group of marauding rule-breaking hooligans? Hmm… bad example, as I'm sure they wouldn't mind that one bit… But seriously, I've recently come to realize that I let illicit, hypocritical, ridiculous, or even just plain annoying behaviors pass me unnoticed under the name of "friendship." But today I plan to break that veil and discover the things that we pretend not to notice. After all, what's the point? No one's perfect, so why pretend?

First of all, the most common complaint you've come to see in this column: What is wrong with our Charms department?!? Why do they insist on keeping us ignorant to the more important uses of charms? (You're all accustomed to my rants on the lack of Ancient Magic education in our curriculum.) They claim to have such faith in the abilities of us students, yet censor us from more advanced magic?

More specifically, does anyone notice how much food a blond fourth year Hufflepuff consumes? Why do we all encourage it as if it's amusing? It's disgusting. But even more disgusting is how we fail to see people for what they really are. Like how one of my fellow sixth year Gryffindors is hailed as understanding and wise. Right. Isn't he part of the infamous four mentioned above? Breaking rules every chance they get? And we go to him for advice? 

And then there's the red-haired prefect who claims to be all high and noble. "Don't you dare help him with the answers! He should do his homework on his own!" But wait – didn't I spot her allowing a dashing Quidditch star to copy her Arithmancy assignment when he came back late from practice? I guess even the most principled have their weaknesses for good looks…

Lily's hands trembled as she continued reading. The writing grew more unpolished and the insults more personal… 

__

Who does VW think she is, critiquing fellow students on the maintenance of their hair? Can she not see the rat's nest living on her head? And speaking of hypocrites, AH was seen declaring his undying love for SJ near the Astronomy Tower last Tuesday, and kissing KL in that same place just two days later. I wonder if SJ knows? By the way, has anyone else noticed the disgusting bias displayed by a certain CoMC teacher? And towards the students of HH, too, most of which are hopeless blubbering idiots?!

Also seen: Caroline snogging Hotcellist near the Forbidden Forest. (Wasn't it Dennis just last week? Has she no shame?) Margaret using a complex charm to create those perfect golden curls she's known for. (And she claims they're natural?!) Sidra stealing Ashley's necklace and passing it off as an antique once belonging to her French great-great-grandmother, Tessa running from the Quidditch field in one shoe and no skirt, Kristin forcing her lovely phoenix to clean up her rubbish-pile of a dormitory, Samara drawing up plans to take over Hogwarts (in true Slytherin fashion), Nicole, hidden in the Restricted Section of the library writing letters to her Muggle boyfriend (wonder when she plans to tell her friends about him?)…

Lily couldn't read anymore. She skipped down to the bottom and gasped.

__

And people are under the illusion that Hogwarts is full of wonderful, respectable students? My advice for the week: start looking a little closer.

Disgusted to be one of you,

Lady Sam

Lily was shaking so hard that she barely noticed James slip up behind her and rest his chin on her shoulder. "What's wrong?" he whispered, thrillingly close to her ear. But her heart didn't give its usual leap. Instead she turned and, ashen-faced, handed him the article. Then she strode purposefully toward Samantha, who had entered the hall while Lily had been reading and was now sitting a few seats down, gazing idly over a complicated Charms diagram.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she asked, her voice quiet, but dangerously serious.

Samantha looked up blankly. "Hey, Lil. What's the problem?"

Lily's eyes flashed. "That _article_," she spat. "How could you write that? How could you _say_ those horrible things? Don't you know how many people are going to be furious with you? Don't you realize how you're messing with people's _lives_?!?"

"Lighten up, Lily. I have every right to make people aware we're not all as wonderful as we pretend. I'm just writing the truth."

"Well, here's one to add: Samantha, who pretends to be so sweet and angelic, is in reality nothing more than a repulsive, cruel little brat set on making everyone miserable!"

Samantha blinked at her. From the other side of the table, James guffawed loudly. "This is great!" he cried. Lily gaped at him. "She's right, Lil – lighten up. It's all a joke, can't you see? And it's funny, because this is all _so true_. We all know it anyway, it's not like it's hurting anyone. Caroline and Hotcellist, ha! He's been making eyes at her for months! This is like a gossip column in disguise. I love it! Wait 'til I show Sirius!" He chuckled once more and then got up to go in search of his friends, but paused when he saw Lily's face. "C'mon, Lily, it's only for fun. Don't be so upset."

Lily sighed, hating herself for the tears she could feel beginning to prick her eyes. _This is no game,_ she thought fiercely, _this is not the sweet Samantha we all know. This is _not_ right._ But all she said was, "You're right. Go on, then. Show Sirius. He could use a good laugh." _After the way Samantha's been ignoring him lately, he certainly could._

James grinned and disappeared; Lily sat down heavily, avoiding the triumphant eyes of her friend. For the first time in her life, she felt a surge of hate toward Samantha, but it was accompanied by a surge of worry just as strong.

***

Three class periods later, Samantha still hadn't realized Lily was giving her the cold shoulder. She chattered on idly to her friend, completely unaware that she was getting nothing more than annoyed glares in response. The bell rang, and Samantha followed as Lily stormed from the classroom. Lily needed to think, and she didn't want Samantha anywhere near her. But Samantha was next to her, holding out a piece of parchment. Lily glanced at it – a drawing, of the same boy as the one on her desk. She frowned. "Well," Samantha was saying impatiently. "What do you think of it?"

"I don't know. What should I think of it?" Lily asked tersely.

"Well, isn't he perfect?"

Lily's eyebrows shot together. _What?_ "Who _is_ it?!" she nearly shouted. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold back her growing frustration.

Samantha frowned. "No one really. Just… well you know how everyone always has something about them that can drive you insane? Some little fault? Well, just look at him. He doesn't have one." She smiled, almost smugly. "He's perfect."

They had reached the entrance hall now, and Lily whirled around in disbelief. "What is WRONG with you?" she screamed. Samantha stepped back at the sudden fury in her voice; the other students in the hall sped up on their way to classes. "If there's anyone with 'some little fault that can drive someone insane,' it's you! Pretending for years to be so sweet and angelic and then turning on all of us who've come to love you! Ignoring your sister, who is trying _so hard_ to make things up to you! Breaking poor Sirius's heart by forgetting about him and insulting him and not watching his Quidditch matches!"

Samantha turned nervously, spotting Sirius, James, Peter and Remus, coming down the hall. "Lily, hush," she urged, only making Lily more infuriated. 

She brandished a copy of the _Hogwarts Observer_ under Samantha's nose. "Making fools of all your classmates!" she continued. "Not listening to the advice of your best friend! Pushing away all the people who want to help you! Getting so annoyed with everyone and everything when _we're_ the ones being so kind and understanding and _you're_ being the insufferable brat!"

"Lily, _will you shut up_?" Samantha cried. She was beyond annoyed. She was suddenly wondering why she had ever been friends with Lily in the first place. Now all she could see were her dozens of imperfections – she was overprotective, clingy, an over-achiever, always bothering in other people's business… _and she's calling _me_ insufferable?_ Samantha wouldn't stand for it.

"You're nothing more than a pathetic little Mudblood anyway," Samantha retorted with an arrogant roll of the eyes.

There was silence. Lily stopped breathing; she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. _Had Samantha called her a…_ she couldn't even bring herself to think it. Beside her, James tensed, his eyes bugging out. Then he let out his breath in a long, furious growl. "Why you little…" he muttered, stepping toward her, fingers twitching as if preparing to strangle Samantha, the girl who they'd once thought so innocent, who was standing before them now, coolly regarding them with mocking eyes.

But before James could make a move, Sirius stepped protectively in front of Samantha.

"What are you doing, Black?" James snarled. "Get out of the way."

"_You_ get out of the way, Potter," Sirius returned, just as coldly. "Don't think you're going to _touch_ her."

James spluttered. "Did you not _hear_ what she just said?!?"

"Yes, I heard. But I'm asking you to hold that temper of yours until we find out what's really wrong."

"_'What's really wrong'?_" James repeated incredulously. "_How can you **dare** stand up for her?"_

Sirius put a strong arm around her waist, showing he wasn't about to back down. "_Move_," James said fiercely. 

Sirius just stepped closer. "Leave her alone, Potter. Just leave."

Behind James, Lily let out a soft whimper, and she couldn't hold back the tears gathering in her eyes. It was enough. James launched himself at Sirius and punched him hard in the face. Sirius stumbled back, but his eyes never lowered, and he refused to step aside from Samantha. "Go," he repeated softly.

James grimaced. "You're a fool, Black," he growled, and pulled back another fist.

"James, no!" Lily's voice, trembling, stopped him. "Please," she whispered, through steady tears. "Let's just go. There's nothing you can do." She shivered as she realized how true the words were. Even after yesterday, nothing had changed. Samantha was still slipping away, and for the first time, Lily stopped caring. She wasn't going to fight anymore. If this was the way it was going to be, then fine. Samantha could just disappear for all she cared.

James's face was dark; he had no intention whatsoever of backing down, but the desperation in Lily's eyes affected him more than he would have liked to admit. He cast Sirius one last glare, spitting out, "Staying with her will cause you nothing but pain, Black, and I hope it's _terrible_," before turning stiffly, gathering Lily in his arms, and marching away without a backward glance.

Sirius stared after them for a minute, before sitting down heavily on the cold stone floor – he didn't think his legs could support him any longer. His nose was bleeding freely and from the pain searing through his face he knew he'd be sporting two black eyes in the morning. He didn't care. All he cared about at the moment was that there was a deeply troubled girl sitting next to him, where she had slid weakly to floor beside him. He knew Samantha better than anyone; he knew how _wonderful_ she was, and he was _not_ to going to lose that.

She was shaking. It surprised him how quickly she could change from the insolent teenager to the delicate child these days. He put an arm around her, letting her know that he was there until she was ready to confide in him, and waited. For a moment, she let her head fall limply onto his shoulder, and he pulled her onto his lap, trying to soothe the tension he could feel within her.

She jumped back. "God, Sirius," she muttered. "You're so clingy."

And for what felt like the hundredth time in such a short while, she walked away from him.

Sirius sat there, in the middle of the entrance hall, alone and with a bloody nose, feeling like a fool.

*~*~*

Elizabeth was having difficulty finding her voice. She swallowed. "What happened then?"

Sirius didn't even look up. "That next month was the hardest of my life," he said into his lap. "She was completely separated from us. Lily, Remus, Peter, and James, especially, ignored her, and she ignored us. They tried to get me to forget her, but I couldn't. I kept trying to catch her eyes – in the halls, during class, in the common room – but she saw right through me. It was worse even than when she'd been pulling away; before, she yelled at me, now I didn't even exist. She forgot us all, even Sarah, and withdrew completely into her studies. And Intoned Charms." He paused thoughtfully. "That was when she become obsessed with Intoned Charms. She never did master one, though." Elizabeth shivered, recalling how much she treasured Samantha's little cream book on the Ancient Magic – the book she had probably been reading during the estrangement from her friends. 

Sirius sighed, and Elizabeth could almost feel the weight on his heart. "The memories from that month will be burned forever in my mind," he murmured. "The arrogant look on her face whenever she correctly answered a teacher, the way she suddenly thought herself above even the faculty… the way she looked at all of us as if we were nothing. The weeks passed, and no matter how I tried reaching out, she wouldn't respond. 

"I remember one night, as I lay in bed, I finally made the resolution to forget her. Or to move on, at least, because I knew it would be impossible to forget her. I forced myself to believe that it was hopeless, that I had been deceived in her character from the beginning, and that this new Samantha was the _real_ Samantha, and not just a lost little girl going through a terrible phase. It took me ages, but I think I finally prepared to give up hope…"

"And?" Elizabeth asked into the pause that followed.

"And right as I was about to give up, I found the sign I had been waiting for. There was something more to it than we all knew, and Samantha needed _help_, not abandonment.

"I was the only one left who could save her. But even that did no good in the end."

*~*~*

Sirius lay wide-awake in his four-poster bed gazing agitatedly up at the scarlet hangings. A month had passed since the scene in the Entrance Hall, and he hadn't had a word from Samantha since. Not that he hadn't tried, he wanted more than anything to reach out to her, he just _couldn't _lose her, but nothing had worked. He didn't even know her anymore. This arrogant, self-absorbed girl she had turned into bore no resemblance to the Samantha he loved, the Samantha he _knew_ was still trapped inside. It scared him to death, the way she spent all her time hungrily researching Intoned Charms and the Ancient Magic, claiming that because of her heritage, she could soon master it. It had been an idle hobby before, but it had evolved into an obsession.

He rubbed his eyes. How could he still care about her so much after what she had done? The scene last month had been the worst, but the insults had continued. She found the bad in everyone these days, teachers and students alike. The girl who had always seen nothing but good, the girl who had continued adoring her big sister even as Sarah was being exceptionally nasty… She had even insulted _Dumbledore_, Sirius shivered, remembering. Not to his face, but still where anyone could have heard. _"He's such a fool, pretending to be all noble by only using good magic! Why not use Dark Arts to conquer the Dark Lord and just be through with it? Who cares how it's accomplished as long as our side wins?"_

__

And you still love her?!? Sirius suddenly despised himself for it, despised her for doing this to him. _Well, enough is enough! I will _not_ let her torment me any longer! From now on, Samantha Satine is nothing to me!_ But even thinking the name was enough to make his heart beat faster. He couldn't really believe she had meant those things she'd said. She was being horrible, yes, but this wasn't _Samantha_, not really. It was a poor young girl, lost, floundering, and he wanted to be there to pull her out again. 

He sighed, frustrated beyond belief. He was so _confused_. Unable to lay there any longer, he tore back his covers and slipped distractedly down the staircase and into the common room. He didn't notice Lily until he sat down on the couch in front of the fire, right beside her. Her worried face was enough to make him forget his inner struggle for the moment.

"Lil, what's wrong?" he asked, regarding her quizzically. _Had she been crying?_ He shivered.

There was a long pause, then, "She hasn't come back yet."

Sirius stared at her, uncomprehending. Then he realized why it had taken her so long to answer – she was talking about Samantha, and she didn't like people knowing that she still cared about her after all that had happened. Sirius felt unexpectedly warm. He and Lily were the two people who knew Samantha the best, so it made sense that only the two of them would be able to see through whatever was going on with her. If Lily still had hope Samantha was capable of redeeming herself… Sirius tried to stem the thought. It was too good to hope for.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Lily looked upwards, and Sirius had the suspicion she was blinking back tears. "She's been disappearing a lot lately, every Saturday, sometimes week nights… I'm pretty sure she's going to Hogsmeade. She… she took me with her one time. But she left this evening, after dinner, and she hasn't returned yet, and I… I…" her voice grew fainter, "…don't want anything to happen to her," she finished weakly. "I can't help it."

Sirius's throat felt oddly tight. "You should get some sleep," was all he could manage.

When she made no move to go, he added, "I'll be here."

She looked at him, surprise obvious in her eyes. Apparently, like Sirius, she had just discovered that she was not alone in holding onto hope for her friend. She nodded; his words were like an unspoken agreement: he cared about Samantha, too, and he would make sure she was safe. Lily reached out and squeezed his hand before making her way silently up the staircase.

For nearly two hours, Sirius sat in the common room, gazing into the fire. He was just wondering if he should go alert Dumbledore, when he heard the Fat Lady's portrait creak and Samantha stepped into the room. He stood up and walked until only a few paces separated them.

She was unlike he had ever seen her – white, pale, shaking, and there was a dark look in her eyes so panic-stricken that he almost stepped back in fear, but then he remembered himself and reached out a hand. He knew she wouldn't take it, he could tell that nothing had changed, but despite all she had done, he still _needed_ her, and he felt the sense, now stronger than ever, that she needed him, too.

He was watching her eyes, those eyes that had terrified him his first four years at Hogwarts… he almost laughed. He had been so afraid of falling in love with her, and now he was petrified of losing her. 

He hoped he wasn't too late.

Concentrating on her eyes, he strained to see some hint of the sweet Samantha he knew within them, but it was difficult to focus: emotions were flitting through them too fast to catch – terror, disgust, vulnerability, desperation… The last emotion remained in her eyes a fraction of a second longer, focused unblinkingly on him, filled with such a strong ache for help, crying out to be embraced, that his heart gave a painful leap. Perhaps this was the moment…

She was reaching out to him. 

Sirius held his breath, waiting, longing to hold her and to help her… but just as her hand brushed his, she recoiled, with a look of utter revulsion. Whether it was aimed at him or herself he was suddenly unsure. 

"God, Sirius, _don't you see?_" she screamed, wild-eyed. 

He stepped back, stung. Perhaps he was wrong. But then the edge left her eyes and she looked terrified again. "I'm _tainted_," she whispered hoarsely, so softly that he wondered if he had heard correctly. It was absurd; what could she mean? He was struck again with the idea that she was not in her right mind. Before he could question her, she gave a deep, dry sob, and then she was gone, stumbling up the staircase to the dorms, clutching at her stomach.

Sirius remained in the common room long after she left. He didn't know what to do or think. For the first time in his acquaintance with Samantha, he felt utterly devoid of feeling. All he could do was stare blankly into the dying flames, thinking idly what a shame it was that they would soon be extinguished – the color was so beautiful as it burned, flickering cheerily no matter what terrible scenes passed in front of it. _Like Samantha,_ he thought. _Like she used to be, so bright and beautiful and perfect… but now, dying, slowly, extinguishing before my eyes, and there's nothing I can do but sit back and watch her go, because if I reach out, I'll be burned… _

He fell asleep before he could watch the last flame flicker and die.

***

The next week proved even more difficult than the past month, though Sirius would have never thought it possible. Now he was nearly jumping out of his skin every time he saw Samantha. He wanted so badly to see that flicker of hope in her again, to _shake_ it into her, _anything_, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had no idea how to approach her. 

To make matters worse, she was scaring him more than ever. After that night, she had lost any trace of arrogance or cruelty, and was walking around like a ghost, deadly pale and constantly shaking. She looked so tiny and so frightened, and he didn't know what to do. Then, exactly a week after that night in the common room, Sirius saw a sign that made him resolve to talk to her. 

It was the day that the prefects had been informed in their weekly meetings that attacks on Muggle settlements were increasing, and Lily had left the room ashen-faced, undoubtedly worried about her own family. Samantha had watched her walking away after the meeting, a struggle apparent in her eyes, when she had finally made up her mind and cried out, "Lily!" There had been real compassion written in her eyes; Sirius had seen it. But James had thrown Samantha a dark look and rushed forward to put a comforting arm around Lily and lead her away. The light had flickered from Samantha's eyes, and she had walked away. _But it was there_, Sirius insisted, _she was reaching out._

And tonight would be the night he'd prove it.

***

As soon as dinner ended that evening, Sirius settled himself in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for the opportunity to confront Samantha. When she came through the portrait hole a few minutes later, however, she went immediately to her dormitory. After nearly three painful hours torn between feeble homework attempts and watching the girls' staircase, Sirius sought out Lily, making sure that James was nowhere nearby before asking her to see what Samantha was doing. When Lily returned to report that she was sound asleep, Sirius gave a frustrated sigh and decided he might as well get some sleep, too.

Feeling like a complete failure, he trudged up the stairs and got into bed. But sleep wouldn't come. After dozing fitfully for awhile, he gave up and slid back down to the now empty common room, wide-awake. He was just reconciling himself to another night on the couch, with no company besides the crackling fire, when a small gasp made him whirl around. Samantha was on the staircase, and she looked to have just fallen, because she was clinging tightly to the banister for support.

The glow from the fire illuminated her face just enough for Sirius to make out the tears shining there. It was enough to make him forget any hesitance: he rushed towards her and led her down the staircase, and she leaned against him without protest. 

When they reached the bottom step, they sat down together and Sirius looked Samantha full in the face. He hated that haunted look that tainted those beautiful blue eyes, but looking closer, he saw a sign far more hopeful – the spark in the back that he was sure meant that this was _his_ Samantha he was talking to, the girl he had always known. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Hearing the genuine concern in his voice made Samantha sob aloud. She didn't deserve his sympathy, she thought bitterly. But she _did_ need to talk. "I feel so sick," she murmured.

His hand moved up and down her back in a gentle massage. "Do you need something?" he asked.

She nodded her head, "Yes." Then she shook it. "No, I don't think I'm physically ill… emotionally," she whispered thickly. "Oh Sirius!" she sobbed, and for a moment she could do nothing but cry into his shoulder. Then she looked up, face shining wet with tears. "I've been so awful! And I don't know why, I didn't even _realize_ it until just now, and… I can't believe it, Sirius! What is wrong with me? I would never, _never_… you know I'm not like that! I just…" she was sobbing so hard now that she was completely incoherent, but Sirius heard her perfectly. He knew exactly what she was trying to express; they were the same confused thoughts he had been having the past few months. "I just feel so _sick_," she repeated, although this time she looked it, literally.

Clutching one hand to her stomach, and clapping the other over her mouth, she raced to the bathroom just off the stairwell, and Sirius could soon hear her vomiting violently, coughing and spluttering.

He felt sick to his stomach just listening, but he waited patiently until she was done, his eyes scanning the common room idly, noticing the shadows, somehow comforting, that were cast by the furniture, the grandfather clock in the corner, just a minute past midnight… A minute later the heaving had stopped, and Sirius walked into the bathroom to find Samantha panting weakly on the floor. She looked up at him, dazed, as he found a towel and gently wiped off her mouth, before handing her a glass of water.

"You know, I believed you when you said you were so sorry that it made you sick. You didn't have to prove it," he lightly joked. It worked; she looked up at him, a feeble smile on her lips. 

"Come here," he said, as he lifted her gently to her feet and half-carried her over to the plush scarlet couch by the fire. As soon as he sat down beside her, she began to cry again, repeatedly muttering how terrible she was and how she could never make it up to them, how she didn't deserve to ever be forgiven. And even though he still had no concrete explanation for her behavior, he knew he had been right in thinking that it hadn't been of her own will. _This_ was the real Samantha. He realized that he had already forgiven her the moment she had opened her mouth. But she couldn't see that, and she continued to sob uncontrollably.

"Shh…shh, Sam, it's okay," he soothed, rocking her slowly in his arms, back and forth, back and forth. "Hey, look at me," he whispered, tilting her chin gently so she could see his face. She shivered – he looked so sincere, so caring, so forgiving. Her heart stopped; he was so wonderful and she didn't deserve him. "Remember what you wrote in that article?"

"Don't; I'll be sick again. Don't remind me."  
He continued over her, "Remember how you said friendship can blind you to someone's imperfections?"

She nodded, feeling the tears threatening to start again.

He pulled her closer. "Well, love does the same thing, only stronger. No matter what you do, I know the person you are inside and I'll never stop loving you."

She couldn't hold them back – the tears spilled from her eyes and into his sweater. "Oh, Sirius!" she sobbed, her words muffled in his shoulder. "I'm so sorry! So sorry…"

Kissing her forehead, he pulled her upright so she could see into his face again. Tremulously, she allowed her eyes to meet his (_those eyes…_) and, taking a deep breath, said what she'd been holding in all year. "I love you, Sirius."

He shivered. It was all he needed. "I love you, too," he murmured. "Always."

Then he closed her mouth with a kiss.

***

After about half an hour of making up for lost time with Sirius, Samantha decided she could not go any longer without finding Lily and attempting to win back her friendship. But when they emerged from the portrait hole, hand in hand, she and Sirius collided head-on with an ashen-faced James.

"What happened?" Sirius asked immediately, his voice tightening.

James' voice was hollow when he answered, as if he'd already had to repeat it more than once. "Another attack. An enormous one this time." Samantha grasped Sirius' hand tighter to her own, already feeling dizzy. "It was in a little Muggle village just a few kilometers away. The Death Eaters, dozens of them, ravaged the place… and left no one alive."

There was a pause, then Sirius asked, "When did it happen?" 

"An hour ago, exactly. They attacked at the stroke of midnight," James replied shakily, unable to control his voice any longer.

__

Exactly an hour ago Samantha had become sick to her stomach… Sirius tried to shake off the thought, but he couldn't. Glancing over his shoulder at Samantha, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

James nodded at her darkly. "What's the matter with her now?" he asked. "And since when are you two talking?" His eyes narrowed as he spotted Sirius' hand, clenching Samantha's tightly.

Sirius looked his best friend straight in the eyes. "Don't you dare give her any trouble, James. She's more sorry than you'll ever know, and she's forgiven. And I have the suspicion she's been through much more pain than she brought on any of us. So forget it."

A struggle took place on James's face. It didn't seem he could just give in that easily, but then he sighed and relaxed somewhat. "I suppose if we're going to win this war, we'll need every bit of support we can get," he said, and put out a hand. Samantha reached to shake it, still too shaken to properly say anything, but as she clasped it, he pulled her into a hug instead. Even James himself seemed surprised. "Lily's missed you," he said huskily. "She'll be so glad you're back." It was a brief embrace, and when he released her, he immediately set off through the portrait hole, a suspicious blush climbing up his neck. 

She waited until the Fat Lady closed behind her before meeting Sirius' eyes. And then, pushing aside all dark thoughts for the moment, they laughed.

*~*~*

__

There was a long pause in which she couldn't bring her eyes to meet his. But then they did, and she determinedly held his gaze, begging him to listen. "I'll tell you everything, I promise, but first, swear to me this: whatever happens, this child" (her hand went protectively to the object of his repeated gaze) "will always have you to look to. Promise me she'll have your protection."

"I can't do that," but his voice shook, and they both knew he was lying.

"You're the only one I'd trust with her. You're the only one who will believe me."

He attempted to ignore the way his pulse quickened with the intoxicating sound of her words by asking,"What good will I be when she'll have you?"

When she didn't answer, he felt a lump form in his throat. She knew something else that he didn't…

"Please, Sirius."

He sighed. "I promise."

Tears sprang to her eyes, falling like tiny diamonds as her face curved in a smile. He had every reason to hate her, and to despise this child, and yet he continued to act on pure love! She wondered, for the hundredth time since meeting him, what she had done to deserve him. She could marvel over it for hours, and still get nowhere near a reasonable explanation… but she caught his eye – this was not the time. Right now, she owed him something long overdue:

An explanation.

But first, she came slowly forward and reached for him, pulling him into the tight embrace she'd been aching for for years.

"I've always loved you," she whispered into his neck. It was amazing the effect those words could have, even after all that had happened. She sighed, realizing that it was truer now than ever.

Sirius clung to her. Explanations could wait. For the moment, this was enough.

****

AN: Before you go on to the next chapter for the explanation that you deserve just as much as Sirius does, please take a minute to review – I could really use feedback. Thanks! ~ Rose


	14. Things Left Unsaid

****

Chapter Fourteen: Things Left Unsaid

"I don't understand."

Elizabeth's blunt statement hung in the air for several seconds with no reply except the crackling of the fire. Sirius looked at her wryly. "None of us did."

"But what could make her do those things? What was wrong with her?" she asked, her heart fluttering in her desperation for a definitive answer.

"You know." Sirius said simply. "It's part of you."

Elizabeth was about to protest when Sirius flicked his wand at the fire and propelled a burning twig out of the blaze and straight toward Elizabeth. She gasped and flung a hand up, barely having to think the word "_Impedimenta_" to make the twig stop in midair. She extinguished it and watched it fall harmlessly to the floor. Then she looked up at Sirius, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why did you…?"

But he interrupted. "Where do you think you got the power to do that?" he asked. "The Ancient Magic has been considered extinct for years, and here you are, throwing Intoned Charms around effortlessly. Your mother couldn't do that. The most powerful witches and wizards within the past few hundreds years couldn't do that. Tell me, Elizabeth – _where did you get that power?_"

"I don't know," she half-sobbed.

"Yes. You do." When her only response was a violent shake of the head, Sirius continued. "From your mother you inherited the _potential_ to master the Ancient Magic. From your father you received the power – the possibility of harnessing a talent long-buried."

She continued to shake her head, trying to ward off the obvious conclusion.

"And Elizabeth, there was but one wizard living in our time who accumulated enough power to make the revival of the Magic in you possible. One wizard who would go to any length to obtain more power…"

She was shaking her head so violently now that Sirius was forced to stop. He sighed, and tried a different tact.

"You couldn't live around Samantha Satine and escape talk of Intoned Charms," he began. "I used to think they'd poisoned her, that if she'd only left them alone, ignored the Ancient Magic flowing through her veins, that maybe she could have escaped what befell her. If she'd pushed aside the big picture, she wouldn't have been drawn into it all. But you can't avoid destiny, Elizabeth. You can ignore it, certainly – I did for years – but you can't escape it.

"And in the end, it makes it so much easier to just believe it. Because you see Elizabeth, in the end she'd poisoned me, too. I hated her obsession with the Ancient Magic, but that doesn't mean I didn't _believe_ it. I knew there was something special about her. I knew that she was destined for something – I just never imagined it would be so terrible.

"You know that the purpose of the Ancient Magic was to maintain the forces of good in the world and attempt to stem evil. We lived in a time when the shadow of evil was spreading, and it looked as if it would soon overpower us. But then something remarkable happened: the Ancient Magic, which everyone had believed extinct, gathered around one of its own – a young girl with the power passed down in her blood and the innocent sweetness of pure good – and put forth one last effort to curb evil. Its strength was not great enough to outright conquer the movement of the Dark Lord, for you know the Ancient Magic's power became diluted as it was twisted for less than saintly purposes, but it found a different possibility – rather than destroy it, convert it. And who better for the job than your mother, the youngest and purest of the Satine line?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't understand," she said flatly. She looked pleadingly up at Sirius, but immediately looked away again. She didn't like the almost maniacal glint in his eyes.

All he said was, "You know you do."

"I don't!" she spat vehemently, but she immediately proceeded to cry. "I don't _want_ to," she added. The words seemed to tear out of her unwillingly, pulling with them a fiery lump of pain. She hadn't wanted to admit it. But now everything she'd been hiding from her consciousness over the past year was unlocked and poured throughout her body in a powerful rush. As its truth penetrated, she felt suddenly drained of energy, collapsing into weak sobs on the floor of the dreary room.

Just as she feared the misery would consume her, she felt warm arms lifting her from the ground and into a comforting embrace. She felt the tears from another face falling into her hair. _I'm not alone_, she thought, and slowly cleared her mind. _I only know half of the story,_ something deep inside was reminding her, _and here's my opportunity to learn the rest. _She regained her footing and looked up at Sirius blearily.

"I've been dreaming about it for a long time, but I can never remember it when I wake up… I just feel sick to my stomach and I don't know why."

"The Ancient Magic has a way of protecting its enforcers from especially painful evil, but that is not always for the best."

"I suppose I could have remembered it if I'd thought about it hard enough, I just never wanted to."

"A hard admission to make. Can you make yourself remember it now?"

"Can't you just tell me? It's so much worse to watch it actually happen."

"Even I don't know exactly how he did it… that's why you were given the postcognition vision, no doubt. There will always be things she never told me, or never got the chance to tell me…"

"So all the difficult information is passed on through me?" Her tone started bitter, but ebbed into fatigue. Elizabeth sank back down into the armchair and rubbed her temples fervently.

"Tell me what you know first," she said after awhile. "I can feel the main idea those dreams were trying to tell me, but I've been holding them back so long that it's hard to recall the details."

Sirius sat very still for a moment, then abruptly stood up from his chair and sat down again on the worn carpeting in front of the fire. He beckoned Elizabeth to join him, and when they were both seated cross-legged directly across from eachother, he reached out his hands. She hesitated a moment before placing both of her hands firmly in his. He was looking at her now, with such a great solemnity that she felt nervous; but there was something else behind his stare, an eager thirst for truth. 

"We're going to figure this out together," he said, still staring at her unblinkingly. I'll tell you everything I remember, and you fill in the blanks whenever something comes back to you from a dream, okay?" He smiled somewhat wanly. "I did this with your mother once or twice in seventh year while studying for our N.E.W.T.S.; she claimed that all the knowledge we'd learned was stored in our subconscious somewhere, and if we focused entirely on that one subject together, all the hidden facts would come pouring out. It always worked pretty well."

Elizabeth gave him a timid smile back. The thought that this method had been used before in much lighter situations, and by her mother no less, was rather comforting. She nodded, although her voice was hoarse, "I'll try."

"Alright then…" Sirius closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "As I was saying, we were living in dark times back when I was your age. Voldemort's powers were growing faster than ever before, and it seemed that they were soon to reach their height. But before that could happen, the forces of good intervened. In some last attempt by Fate to save Tom Riddle from his evil path, he took one look at Samantha and fell in love, against all his intuitions_._"

Elizabeth closed her eyes. "It was in a bar…"

"Yes, in the Three Broomsticks on a Hogsmeade weekend our sixth year."

"Were you there?"

"No, I had tracked down Sarah to have a little talk with her. Remus was there."

"And?"

"He remembers what he looked like – handsome, he said, and only a little older than us… three, four years maybe…"

"That doesn't make sense."

"No, because Voldemort was much older, I know. But he had already gone to such lengths to reach immortality by then that it's hardly surprisingly that he could alter his appearance to how he looked as young Tom Riddle, before the evil tainted his features. Good research – blending into a Hogwarts crowd, scouting new recruits for his ranks. He used to have a habit of it in the old days, before his power completely went to his head. Dumbledore says Riddle had a surprisingly good sense when it came to detecting a witch or wizard's potential."

"But I mean, it doesn't make sense that he…"

"… fell in love with her? Ah, well, that ties into his talent, somewhat. He has his sensors open, receptive to new power, and was thereby fully susceptible to the radiant goodness of the Ancient Magic flowing from your mother. He had obtained an ancient form of dark magic, and was thus fully vulnerable to sensing ancient good magic, as well. And although most people could only see traces of it in her sweetness, Samantha, like all Satines, thrived in the power of the old."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. "I just don't see how one so evil…"

But Sirius interrupted. "The Ancient Magic was pure good until evil corrupted it; man is the same way. At his soul, he is good, and the more one glosses over that fact, the thirstier a part of man's soul becomes for the good it was created on. Most evil men can ignore this longing, however. Or some have substituted love with lust. But Voldemort was an extraordinary case. He had denied any inner good in him so profusely, that when Fate intervened to spark that part of him, the longing for good inside him was immensely strong. He was subconsciously drawn to Samantha and there was nothing he could do about it. The concept of love was in fact so rational to him that he probably didn't even understand what was at work. All he knew was that for a moment that day in Hogsmeade, he had encountered a girl he had to have."

"She didn't just go to him," Elizabeth asserted, more out of hope than knowledge.

"No, she didn't." Sirius smiled ruefully. "I love her for that. He attempted to grab her attention and she turned away. But that was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of all."

"Because she rejected him, and he always got what he wanted."

"Yes, and even worse, she rejected his _love_. So at that point he became aware that he had felt an emotion that he'd sworn off as the ultimate weakness. And not only had he succumbed to it unwittingly, but he had then been brushed aside."

"So he was determined to have her."

"He put a potion in a drink and had it sent to the table. No one noticed it being delivered, and, thinking it belonged to one of us at the table, Samantha never thought once about the goblet touching her lips. And we never even suspected it, until years later."

"But you saw its effects." 

"Unfortunately."

"And that's when she did all those awful things?" Elizabeth asked. Sirius nodded, his eyes closed tight for a brief moment. "What was it? Hadn't love potions been banned?"

"Yes, but that wouldn't matter to Voldemort. But it wasn't a love potion, exactly. Her friends might have detected that. This was subtler. It altered her perceptions, exemplifying the faults of everyone around her while making her see the administrator as flawless."

"I don't see…"

"She became irrational. Ever little thing in a person that could possibly be construed as a fault appeared to her, even if she would have never considered it that way. Calling Lily a Mudblood, for example. Samantha would _never_ have seen Lily's heritage as anything to be sneered at, but _some_ people would, so the potion gave her _their_ view. It was worse with her closest friends, because she knew us best, and could therefore find more instances for fault." 

"And she already knew your flaws, but part of friendship had been accepting, and even loving them."

"But that was no longer the case. She withdrew from us, and felt lost and alienated. She needed someone to run to."

"So she started sneaking to Hogsmeade, where she met with a handsome young man to whom she could talk."

"He knew what she was going through, so he, better than anyone, could comfort her and give her exactly what she needed. On top of that, she saw him as perfect, such a sharp contrast from how she saw us that she couldn't help but start to fall for him."

"She wouldn't just give up on her friends, though?"

"No. Her perception and emotions were mangled, but she still had her reason, and her reason told her that there had to have been a reason she once loved us all so much."

"So she started reaching out to you again."

"Back and forth she went. One moment I thought I had her, the next she was pulling away with a revolted look on her face. But it gave us hope, Lily and I especially, that something really was wrong, and that Samantha could be saved."

"But that was another mistake…"

"It made Tom worry. His hold on her wasn't strong enough. He needed to capture her before she overpowered the potion."

Elizabeth hadn't noticed until now how their voices had been growing steadily quieter. "What did he do?" she whispered.

Sirius looked her full in the face, an intense burning behind his eyes. "Bound her to himself. She refused to tell me how."

"It was too hard to tell," she murmured, shutting her eyes to block his gaze. She could feel the edges of the vision that would tell her how it happened, they were pressing in on her mind. She wanted so badly to block them, but she could still feel Sirius's desperate gaze burning into her. It was gnawing away at him not to know…

"It was night," she whispered after a moment, finally giving into the vision and allowing it to wash over her. "She was lying in bed when she felt him calling for her…"

*~*~*

Samantha had gone to bed that night feeling dazed. Every spare moment of her time these days was being devoted to an increasingly rigorous study of Intoned Charms. She was exhausted. She had the heritage; she was so _sure_ she could do it. "Yes, it's in our blood, Sam! _But we don't have the power to invoke it!_" Sarah had screeched at her two weeks ago in the middle of a crowded hallway. 

"NO!" she had retorted, the blood rushing to her brain and making her feel intoxicated. She felt that way a lot lately… out of her mind, heady, giddy, confused… and _powerful_. Like there was a new source surging inside her. She was convinced that the more she studied the Ancient Magic, the more power she unleashed within herself. "NO!" she had cried again. "You just wait and see! I _have_ the power! I can _feel_ it!"

That was the last Samantha had spoken to her sister. 

It had been twice as long since she'd spoken to her friends. _Former friends,_ she reminded herself.

What she really needed was someone to talk to. Someone reasonable and admirable, someone flawless enough that she wouldn't be repelled just to be near him. She knew where that someone could be found, but she had been so obsessed in her quest that she hadn't visited Hogsmeade in a little over a week. _Nine days,_ somewhere in her brain whispered. _Nine days since I've talked to him. I **need** to talk to him._

The longer she went without seeing him, the more the pain built up. She felt a terrible guilt about the things she thought about her friends these days, and Tom was the only one capable of soothing it. "You're too hard on yourself," he would say. "You're too good, Sam. It's not natural. I'm not one to scorn the Ancient Magic, but when it runs as thick as it does in your blood, it can act like a drug, meddling with your perception. I think the more you study the Magic, the better you can control what's inside you. Not only are you gaining knowledge, Samantha, but _power _and _clarity_. This new light in which you are seeing your friends is probably much closer to the truth."

The comfort of having an excuse was immense, and Samantha bubbled with pride at Tom's appraising reference to her heritage and the acknowledgment that she must be mastering it. Sirius had indulged her love for fairies, but he had never been truly supportive of her quest to learn Intoned Charms. But _Tom_…

Images of the two men rivaled for possession of her thoughts, back and forth, until – 

"Argh!" Samantha cried, kicking her feet violently beneath her quilt. 

She gave a few more futile writhes until she was hopelessly entangled in the covers, not settling until an aquamarine velvet pillow bounced off of her head and Lily's voice muttered thickly, "Now really, the goblin rebellions are nothing to lose sleep over."

Samantha paused – it was an old joke from first year, and Lily had undoubtedly let it slip subconsciously (as the girls hadn't spoken since the incident in the Entrance Hall one month ago), but the effect it had on Samantha was heart stopping. For a moment her raging thoughts were unexpectedly clear, and she found herself able to organize them into three simple facts:

Everything – her common sense, her perception, her heart – was telling her that Tom was the only one who could satisfy her needs and desires.

But something deeper – less logical, less tangible, yet somehow far purer – resisted. Like an undercurrent in her heart, she ached for Sirius.

She missed Lily.

In that clarifying moment, she knew each to be true, but just thinking about the first two made her head swim worse than before. 

She focused in on the last. It was the simplest, and the most easily rectified. She could apologize right now.

She lay back on her pillow and gathered a deep breath for strength. But suddenly every thought was wiped from her mind and she shot bolt upright in bed.

__

Tom. He needed her.

*~*~*

Sirius gave Elizabeth a hard stare. "What do you mean, he was 'calling her'?"

She gave him a sour look in return as the question pervaded her concentration. "Kind of like telepathy, but more of a feeling, I suppose." When Sirius continued to look confused, she added, "It's one gift of the Ancient Magic to be able to sense things. You mentioned that sometimes she got feelings and just knew things, so this would be something of an advanced form of that. Only it was coming from Tom's dark magic, and not from any talent of her own." Elizabeth paused, and it was her turn to be confused. "But I don't understand how she could be so foolish as to just leave in the middle of the night," she wondered aloud.

Sirius shook his head grimly. "She wanted so badly to access the Ancient Magic, and she never could. She would've grasped on to any instance which could mean she'd developed the gift."

"She was blinded by a dream…" Elizabeth whispered, and for the first time she understood that her professors' warnings about Intoned Charms might have been warranted.

*~*~*

It was cold in the tunnel leading into Hogsmeade, but Samantha ran on, half-delirious from the burning desire to reach Tom. He needed her, she knew it, but the feeling was unsettling somehow. Not at all like she had expected a message from the Magic to be. And how _had_ she developed that power so suddenly? But she couldn't think, she could hardly breathe, she no longer even knew where her feet were taking her… she just had to keep going.

After an hour or so, she slowed her pace, her mind clear enough to notice that she was far into one of the rolling fields on the very edges of Hogsmeade. Wet blades of grass shined eerily in the moonlight, and Samantha found herself wishing for the cover of trees.

Tom Riddle smiled as the young girl floated angelically toward him – in her flowing white nightdress, her hair falling in soft curling tendrils on her shoulders, her eyes sparkling oddly with the reflection of moon, and her bare feet grazing the dewy grass, she appeared a vision of innocence. If the Magic was going to plague him with feelings of relentless love, he was at least going to be in control of it. This girl would not make a fool of him again. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he instinctively tried to soothe her shivering body. "Why am I here?" she whispered, and he could hear the fear in her voice. The excitement from her "instinct" to come had long worn off.

"I…" he faltered. His heart softened, beyond his control, and he caressed her back, almost hesitantly. The thought of losing her caused pain to more areas than his pride. "I get scared sometimes… I feel lost, and I just… need you. You're the only one who can calm me."

She peered up at him thoughtfully and smiled. "You know, I was just thinking the same about you."

"Good," he whispered into her hair. "Then you'll do something for me." She nodded slowly against his cloak as he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a tiny object.

He placed it in her hand, and she stepped back to examine it in the moonlight. It was a ring – smooth and cool against her skin, made of dusted silver with three tiny emeralds side by side along the top. She looked up at him quizzically.

"So I can call you," he explained. "It's an antique, descended from the old Kingdom of Lilwalnia hundreds of years ago. It was said to belong to the Paranette family – see how it glows? It's infused with the Magic."

Samantha's eyes widened and she slipped it onto her finger unquestioningly. "You're wonderful," she murmured, looking up into his dark eyes wonderingly. She had never been given a gift so suited to her passions. He stared down at her, love pouring unrestrained from his eyes, basking in Samantha's radiant joy. But it lasted for only a moment, and she saw the struggle in his eyes before the adoration in them flickered out. They became dark, angry. _Angry with who? _she wondered.

"I have to go," he said, and Disapparated on the spot.

Samantha looked around, bewildered. Then she started running. Innately, she knew she wanted to be nowhere near this place. With every pounding step, she pushed herself on harder. The tension in her head was growing, her veins were throbbing so that she could see a shadow of each heartbeat before her eyes, and she began trembling so hard that she thought she might seize up and collapse. Just then she stopped mid-step, clutching her head, then her stomach, and finally sinking onto the ragged cobblestones. She couldn't see – she was blacking out – but she was brought sharply back to consciousness as a searing pain shot through her finger where the ring rested. Blinded by the glittering stars suddenly obstructing her eyes, she yanked the thin silver band from her finger and hurled it as far as her arm allowed.

The pain ebbed away, and she lay on the street, panting hard. When her head cleared and her muscles had relaxed, she sat up slowly and examined her ring finger in the moonlight. A livid red brand ran all the way around its base, exactly where the ring had been. Seized this time not by pain, but by sheer horror, she stumbled to her feet and ran without pause all the way back to Hogwarts.

When she finally staggered through the portrait hole and back into Gryffindor Tower, her mind was in such disarray that she was shocked she hadn't yet passed out from panic and confusion. She looked up and another jolt shot through her heart, for there was Sirius.

For a moment, she felt the same clarity of thought that she had experienced earlier in her dormitory and she knew, without a doubt, that _this_ was the person she needed. But could she go to him? Did he still care for her? Shaking, she reached a hand hesitantly forward. He was inching closer, their fingertips were a fraction apart, she felt the warmth of his body… and recoiled. Something seemed to die inside her. "God, Sirius, _don't you see?_" she screamed, wild-eyed.

He stepped back, stung, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. She was looking at the hand that had reached for him, the hand that had an angry red welt branded into the flesh of its ring finger.

"I'm _tainted_," she whispered hoarsely, feeling a wave of self-disgust overriding her senses.

She gave a deep, dry sob and stumbled up the staircase to her dormitory, clutching her stomach.

*~*~*

Sirius was gazing, unfocused, at the worn carpeting. "So he conferred the spell through a ring," he muttered. "I've always wondered how he managed it."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth whispered. "What happened? I saw it… but I don't understand."

Sirius didn't look at her. "It must have been one hell of a strong spell to brand her like that. Although it was temporary… I would have noticed…" he shuddered, then blinked away whatever memory he was picturing and met Elizabeth's gaze. 

"He bound her to him," he said matter-of-factly, then gave a harsh laugh. "She was too strong to be captured by a simple potion."

"Because she was already coming back to you?"

"Yes. So he invoked a spell in the ring. I don't know exactly what it was, but she once described to me what it did. It could call to her, force her to him, and even force feelings of love for him within her. When he focused his power into the tie binding them together, she lost her own thoughts, her rationality…"

Elizabeth swallowed convulsively at the image of a young woman rolled in a ball on the floor sobbing as she battled to push the outside interference from her brain. She shook her head, then frowned. "But I thought she threw off the ring?"

"It was most likely only a transfer device. The spell made her feel like she was losing a part of herself, and he wouldn't want her in his presence when that happened, would he? Not if he wanted her to love him. So he gave her the ring, then activated the spell through it after she left."

"Did she realize what had happened?"

"Not until after we graduated. After that night, he became solely occupied on his ascension to power, and he forgot about your mother for a few years. She was the prize waiting for him once he had obtained some of the omnipotence he sought."

"So you never noticed anything more while you were in school?"

Sirius sighed. "Unfortunately, no. We had no idea that Samantha was still in danger, and she did everything in her power to forget about it. She convinced herself that she had seen the error of her ways, and that now that she was back with us, everything would turn out right."

*~*~*

The flames were what attracted Lily to the Hogwarts grounds at midnight on the last night of her sixth year. She pinned on her Prefect badge and muttered, "They just insist on making trouble up until the very last minute, don't they?" But as she approached the roaring bonfire, she saw only Samantha, gazing intently into the flames, her long, loose curls falling freely down her back. 

Lily frowned, but then she looked into the flames and she began to understand, for there, burning brightly, were pages upon pages of research that Samantha had done on Intoned Charms and the Ancient Magic. There were the drawings of the mysterious boy, there were dozens of copies of Lady Sam's last few articles, there was the book she had purchased in Hogsmeade, _On Reaching Greater Power_. 

Samantha looked up as Lily approached, and despite the eerie look of the light of the flames flickering off her face, she looked incredibly free. She smiled in a way that Lily hadn't seen in over a year, and it made Lily's heart glow. "So," Lily ventured softly. "You've given up on the Ancient Magic?"

Samantha closed her eyes and breathed in the warm early summer air, a look of purity on her face. "I'll leave the Magic to my ancestors," she said. "I'm happy with who I am, and who I have." After several more minutes of gazing into the flames, she whispered, "Thanks for never giving up on me, Lil." Lily just nodded and slipped her hand into that of her best friend.

"You know," Lily said a little later. "The Ancients used to do this all the time – build purifying bonfires to purge themselves of past mistakes."

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "Except they would dance around them to celebrate their moving on to a better stage of life." The girls exchanged mischievous grins, and soon their Hogwarts robes lay in a heap on the ground as they both danced around the flames in their light nightdresses, the bright sound of their laughter bubbling into the night.

In a window in Gryffindor Tower directly above the scene, Sirius Black gazed down, a content smile on his face. James, having just finished the last of his kitchen raids for the year, threw of his Invisibility Cloak as he entered the common room. When he spotted a glint (coming, coincidentally, from a Prefect badge, where it lay discarded in the grass below) reflected in the corner of the window in front of which his best friend was standing, he went over to join him. In the dark, he saw a bonfire glowing far below, and two figures with long flowing hair and wispy dresses twirling around it, barefoot. "What the…? Are those…?" he stared at Sirius, who was smiling at the girls fondly.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Those are our girls."

"Hm," James nodded in approval. "They're beautiful."

"They sure are." 

*~*~*

"With the burning of those books, it felt like we'd been granted a new start," Sirius smiled, remembering. "Samantha shelved her interest in the Ancient Magic and came back to us whole-heartedly. It was a little too passionate at times, but we never paid it much mind then. We were just as eager to have everything back to normal as she was to forget everything she'd been through. I guess that's why none of us ever talked about it. A mistake, I see now, but we were just kids living in dark times, grasping to keep everything as normal as possible."

"What happened then?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well," Sirius smiled. "We had a _wonderful_ summer. And then seventh year began – James and Lily received their Head Boy and Girl badges in the mail, which was a shock to all of us, as far as James was concerned, anyway. Back in fifth year, Lily and Samantha had been equally in line for the position of Gryffindor Prefect, and when Lily got it, people used to joke that it only meant that Sammy would pull ahead and win Head Girl. She could be very persistent, your mother. But sixth year dragged her down… but I'm getting off-track." 

Sirius shook his head. "Anyway, seventh year was when the dark activities really began to affect people's daily lives. We couldn't avoid them anymore. On more than one occasion, Samantha would wake up sick in the middle of the night, and we would learn of an attack the next day. We just figured it was the good magic running in her veins that made her especially sensitive to the Death Eater's attacks. But other than that, seventh year was one of the best I can remember. We all grew closer than ever before, and we made enough memories to last a lifetime.

"All too soon, we graduated. James went off to begin Auror training, and Lily, who by that time was inseparable from him, went along. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life yet, and I was, after all, only eighteen, so I started working at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley to make some money. Sammy went back to her family home to spend some time with your grandparents, and then to help prepare for Sarah's wedding. There was a lot of work to be done there, seeing as half the guests would be magical, and half of them Muggle. Samantha did all the preventative charmwork, and at one point Albus Dumbledore himself commended her on it and asked if she could help with a project the Order of the Phoenix was putting together.

"And so after Sarah's wedding, Samantha threw herself into the Order. James and Lily were already members, and I left my job to become one as well. The resistance force was full under way, and the war was escalating, but we hadn't reached a climax yet. There was still time for regular life – I still went out with Samantha almost every night, and she even had time to start researching her family history again. She would never go back to her obsession of the Ancient Magic, but she was bound to prove that the Satines really were descended from the great Paranette family of Lilwalnia. There was just the small glitch that Princess Ellianne Paranette, last Full Empress of the Ancient Magic, had been assassinated at seventeen before giving birth to any heirs. But like I said, Sammy was determined. She just _knew_ there had to be a continuation of the family line, that the child would have been put in hiding as soon as the threat to her mother was known…"

"I know," Elizabeth interrupted. "Aunt Sarah continued the search for years after Samantha died. But what happened?"

"Before we knew it, James had proposed to Lily and another wedding was under way. The Order was strong, we were happy and celebrating, and we all had real hope for a future without the shadow of the war."

"And then?" Elizabeth asked, hating to voice the words.

Sirius sighed. "And then he called to her, one last time."

*~*~*

__

Good old Satine intuition, they called it. Sirius used to make fun of her for it. "You just use that as an _excuse_ for being a know-it-all!" he would exclaim gleefully. "_It's a family gift that I'm always right, so shut up and listen to Princess Samantha!" _he would mimic in a high-pitched impression while James, Remus and Peter laughed. Lily would always crack a smile when he would add, "At least Lily admits to being an insufferable know-it-all. _You_, Miss Pretension, try to disguise it under a different name."

Samantha would laugh. "Well, my intuition told me you were in desperate need of some care, so I was about to kiss you just now, but perhaps you're right – maybe I _am_ just imagining these feelings and it's really just some psychological problem after all…" At which point Sirius would interrupt and beg heartily for her to follow her intuition. 

It was a game that never annoyed Samantha, and that gave Sirius a certain amount of pleasure, because deep down, he was extraordinarily proud of his girlfriend for her incredible ability to sense things, and teasing her about it was the easiest way to announce it to the world. But under the pride, there was also a measure of fear. Sirius loved magic, but the myths of the Ancients seemed overwhelming to him – fate, destiny, the power of the Old Magic – they were all so abstract and frighteningly powerful. Whenever Samantha used the word "destiny," he shivered. Perhaps he had picked up some of her ability, because just hearing the word spoken made him feel that destiny would not be very kind to him

There were times when Samantha found her "Satine intuition" to be the very worst kind of curse as well. She had been mostly happy, and rather stabile ever since her night of illness in the common room sixth year, and now, a year after graduation, life seemed to be going well. Yet there was always that feeling, ever persistent and growing, that she hadn't escaped. The horrors of her sixth year hadn't been conquered. Far from it, they were out there waiting for her. And being able to sense this, having this looming feeling of dread hanging over her, made her angry. She began to hate the power she had inherited from her family – "the gift of intuition, the last remnant of the Ancient Magic possessed by families centuries ago," as the books said.

She was paging through such a book now, slowly at first, scanning each page, looking for an answer. But the more she flipped past without finding anything, the faster she went. She couldn't control the anger bubbling up inside of her, the hatred at this family that had cursed her, the blood in the veins that was the bane of her existence. "_Sirius, this has to end."_ She turned the pages faster. _"No, don't give me that look; I'm serious this time." _The voices in her head wouldn't quiet – they pushed against her, screaming in her mind. _"Will you listen to me? Please, Sirius! I'm rational, I swear! For once in my life, I can see clearly!"_ The pages turned faster, and she could no longer read them, the tears in her eyes were so thick. _"You don't understand now, but you will… please. Siri, please. Don't look at me like that. There's no other way. Sirius…"_

A sob tore in her throat as one of the worn parchment pages ripped off in her hand. She pushed the book away and let her head fall into her knees as she shook with violent sobs. He hadn't listened to her. He wouldn't let her go. She hated her family for making her leave him, and she hated Sirius for what he made her do next.

__

I had to do it, she attempted to console herself, _there was no other way. He was so stubborn; he just wouldn't let me go. _It had been as if he could not trust that it was truly Samantha speaking to him. As if he believed that if he just grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard enough, she'd be herself again, tell him she loved him, fall into his arms… she sighed. It wasn't like the past gave him no reason to doubt her. But she wasn't fighting a potion this time. She could still see his eyes, absorbing this fact. Perhaps that was why he had pushed so hard against it – he did not want to believe she was acting of her own free will.

Something was about to happen – that's how this had started. She had sensed it the other day, the overwhelming sense of danger washing over her, and she knew instinctively that it was time to face her past. She refused to involve Sirius in it. She had hurt him enough before, and now that they were growing so close, she feared that it might destroy him when he found out what had truly happened that night their seventh year. She unconsciously rubbed the now unmarked skin of her ring finger. It was foolish dream – she would find the solution in a book, conquer her past with one of her specialized charms, then run back to Sirius, reclaim his love and live happily ever after. 

But she was still a child in so many ways, and she grasped onto the dream as her final hope.

And so, last night she had met with Sirius as usual. They had gone out to dinner, and just being with him had been enough to push her upcoming task to the back of her mind. It always gave her strength – being around Sirius, surrounded by his warmth and love and laughter. She had taken that strength and used it to steel herself for what she had to do – she had to end things with him until she could conquer the curse Tom had put her under, whatever it was. She knew it was not by accident that this was happening to her, and she knew that the reason for her role in it had something to do with her heritage, with a power that only she possessed. 

"_A curse was placed on the Ancient Magic when its powers were bent to the evil will of men, that it should degenerate over the years, souring from the greatest power imaginable to a weak shadow of its past potency. Although it will still act from time to time, no wizard will be able to control it until the resurrection of the line of Princess Ellianne," _she had read in one of her books. Princess Ellianne's line – the line that everyone else claimed had died out with the princess's death. Samantha was positive that it was the intervention of the Ancient Magic that was causing her problems now, and she was determined to solve the secret of Ellianne's ancestors. The only way to conquer this was to find a way for wizards to access the Magic again.

In the meantime, she had happily consented to go on a walk under the starry sky with Sirius after dinner, where she proceeded to break his heart, as well as her own. But he would not listen to her cryptic warnings of "We can't be together now, please believe me, I'll explain when I can," and she had been forced to resort to something stronger.

__

"I don't love you, Sirius."

He stepped back, as if the words had physically wounded him.

"It was all a schoolgirl crush. Don't you see? A silly infatuation."

He flinched.

"I was trying to spare your feelings by telling you it's not safe for us to be together, but in truth, I can't stand to lie to you any longer. I can't pretend to love you just to spare you any more."

His breath became shorter, each word a sharp blow.

She still shivered recalling what she had done next. He had reached out for her, numbly, unable to stop himself, and she had released her final weapon. Feigning a look of disdain, she spat out, "God, Sirius, you're so clingy," a perfect imitation of that day in the entrance hall back in sixth year. It had the desired effect – Sirius recoiled, shook his head in bewildered disbelief, and stumbled off, clutching an object in his pocket. If he had looked into her eyes, he would have seen the untruthfulness of her words, but he was too shaken to look for the pain and love shining brilliantly there.

Samantha was sitting still with her eyes closed, Sirius's pain-filled face still hovering in her thoughts, when a new vision appeared. A little girl, no more than five, and with Samantha's eyes, her smile and her curls, was racing through the hallway of a house nestled in the countryside. Sunlight poured in through the windows, making the white of the girl's dress glimmer brightly, as she twirled her skirt and snatched a white sheet from a laundry basket. "Lookit!" she trilled, as a beautiful woman – Sarah – came running after her. Samantha marveled at how young and happy Sarah looked. "Elizabeth!" she laughed. "Come back here! I've only just washed those!"

The little girl, Elizabeth, giggled. She had donned the sheet like a long white veil. "Lookit!" she repeated, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She twirled again. "I'm the long-lost ancestor of Queen Ellianne!" She performed an elaborate curtsy, impressive for a child so young. "I am the Princess Elizabeth!" she cried regally. "Now hurry, find me a good place to hide before my enemies come and snatch me away!"

Sarah lifted the child from her waist and twirled her around in the air, before setting her lightly into the laundry basket. "Ah, you are a genius, Lady Sarah!" Elizabeth giggled. She pulled her 'veil' over her head and nestled into the sheets, as Sarah hoisted the basket to her hip. "No one shall ever find me here!" came Elizabeth's muffled giggle, and Sarah, smiling, patted the lump in her basket affectionately.

The vision changed and the girl, a teenager now, and resembling Samantha more than ever, was sitting on a rug in a dank room lit only by a fire, her hands clasped tightly in those of the man sitting across from her – Sirius. "She was cursed," Sirius was saying, and tears coursed down the girl's cheeks. His voice grew soft, comforting, and Samantha ached to hear it, even in a dream. "But she lives on through you." 

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded. "We'll figure this out," she said, and then she was leaving, Sirius watching her with a look of longing in his eyes. She ran through the tunnel connecting Hogsmeade to the Weeping Willow, and she soon reached Hogwarts, where she proceeded to the Hospital Wing. A boy lay on a bed there, a boy with James's hair and Lily's eyes. Elizabeth clasped his hand as more tears came to her eyes. "I'll figure this out," she murmured. "I'll end it. I promise."

Samantha woke with a start, and hugged herself to keep from shaking. She wasn't sure what to make of the vision, if it was, indeed, a vision. She'd never had one before – her powers had been limited to feelings of intuition, those feelings that she'd just been cursing.

She got up to go inside and make some tea, when she noticed the page she had mistakenly torn from the book, crumpled in her hand. She scanned it. _"The kingdom was devastated after the death of their beloved princess… Years passed and Ellianne's story faded into legend… After seventeen years rumors began surfacing that Ellianne's betrothed, Prince Albert of the House of Quenn, was behind the assassination plot…In his murder trial he claimed that the princess had shamed him by marrying another man when she knew she had been promised to the House of Quenn from birth… at which point the Prosecution brought forth a young middle-class woman by the name of Elizabeth…_

Samantha sat down hard, tea forgotten, and riffled through the book until she found the place where the page had been torn out.

__

… by the name of Elizabeth, a seventeen-year-old of questionable birth, adopted into the Lewis family as a baby. Neither side had much proof in favor or against the late Princess Ellianne, and Elizabeth Lewis, as a merchant-class orphan who would have been barely four months old at the time of the murder, stood little chance against the royal forces of Prince Albert. Miss Lewis, however, proved to be a formidable sorceress of the Ancient Magic, with powers to rival those of Ellianne herself, and in the times, such a gift was valued far above status. Miss Lewis's case rested on a series of Postcognition visions in which she claimed to have seen Ellianne, yet pure and unattached, being murdered by Albert for a single reason – sole power over the Lilwalnian throne. The prince was convicted on this evidence by a jury in clear awe of Miss Lewis's abilities.

Although Elizabeth Lewis's power in the Ancient Magic cannot be questioned, historians call upon the reliability of her evidence in this famous trial. Accounts left by other Masters of the Magic have recently been found, claiming that the visions described by Miss Lewis on the stand did not comply with their experience with the Magic. Later historians have also discovered strong proof that Princess Ellianne did indeed defy her betrothal and secretly wed another man. The question became, what reason would Miss Lewis have to hide the true circumstances of the death of a Princess she had never known?

Heart racing, Samantha ran upstairs and lugged down the trunk of books she had gathered on her family history, pulling out the research she had done for her family tree so many years ago. _Lewis, Lewis…_ but there was nothing. The two branches of the tree remained severed – the top one ending with Ellianne, the bottom one beginning with Felicity Satine, but still nothing to link the two. Under Felicity's name, she had written, _Kept her mother's maiden name, solidifying this surviving tradition of the Satine family to honor the power of the Magic passed on through its women._

Not to be discouraged, Samantha pulled out a second book and scanned it for Elizabeth's name… there! _Elizabeth Lewis, most talented Mistress of the Ancient Magic of her time, key figure in the trial of Prince Albert of Quenn. Questionable parentage, adopted by the Lewis family of Lilwalnia… moved to Paris at the age of twenty to teach Intoned Charms at the newly founded Beauxbatons Academy, where she changed her last name to Sateen, a word of fairy origin, meaning 'blessed.' When she married Benjamin Whitten, she insisted on keeping her last name, but as it was never her real maiden name to begin with, authorities refused to legally recognize it. Old stories claim that her eldest daughter, Lady Felicity Whitten, later recovered the name after moving to Winchester, England, but as she died before being legally registered in England, no legal documentation supports this fact…_

Half an hour later a dozen books lay strewn across the deck, but Samantha had found enough facts to finally evidence her case – that Princess Ellianne had given birth to a daughter, Elizabeth, and placed her in hiding (under the Lewis family) before her death, and that Elizabeth was indeed the founder of the Satine family name.

Samantha sat back in her lawn chair for a moment and took a deep breath. The discovery had left her somewhat winded. Idly, she conjured a glass pitcher and used her wand to fill it with ice-cold lemonade. She held the glass to her flushed cheek for a moment before taking a refreshing sip. A sudden thought made her leap up again and rush inside the house. She picked up the newly installed telephone (it had taken quite a lot of charmwork to get it to function inside the wizarding household, but it was necessary now that Sarah was living in the Muggle world), and dialed her sister's number.

***

Sarah was in the kitchen making lemonade the Muggle way (for the first time in her life) when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"I'm going to name my daughter after her!" the voice on the other end said by way of salutation.

"After who?" Sarah asked. She did not have to ask who was calling – only Samantha would start a conversation like that.

"Princess Ellianne's daughter!" Samantha exclaimed with child-like glee.

Sarah, although exasperated by this comment, couldn't help but laugh. "Samantha, we've been through this. Ellianne never had a daughter."

"Oh, but she did!"

"Yes, I know you've been trying to prove that for years…" Sarah began patiently.

"But I've finally found the proof!" Samantha interrupted, and even over the phone Sarah could feel the truth of the statement. She silenced.

"I was just sitting here looking for a way to end the curse…"

"Curse?"

"That doomed the Ancient Magic to diminish over the years…"  


"Ah, yes." Sarah was familiar with this theory, too. "Go on…"

"… because I can't be with Sirius until it's broken, and…"

Sarah interrupted again. "But I thought you _were_ with Sirius?"

"No, I broke it off last night."

"Samantha!" Sarah was genuinely shocked. "Why?"

"Hush, Sar, I'm about to explain everything. Now, the Ancient Magic…"

"But Sirius! What happened?"

"I'm getting to that – it connects."

But Sarah was persistent. "You and Sirius were so perfect for eachother!"

Samantha, slightly annoyed at being interrupted, asked, "What's with the sudden concern? I thought you'd always disapproved of him."

"Well, I did at first, but I was wrong. He's a great guy; I can see that now. Besides, he really loves you, Sam. You'll be safe with him."

Samantha held the phone away from herself for a second and took a deep breath. When she came back on the line, she managed to control the tremble in her voice. "This is not about Sirius, Sarah. It's about a momentous discovery in the wizarding world's past!" Samantha breathed a sigh of relief – she could feel her enthusiasm flooding back to erase the cold brought on by Sarah's words. 

She heard her sister chuckle softly on the other end of the line. "Alright, Sammy," she said. "Go on and tell me about this 'momentous discovery.'"

"Well, as I've already told you, I finally found the link…"

"Between Princess Ellianne and us, I know. But c'mon now, Sam, how's that possible?"  


"It's just like I've always claimed!" Samantha enthused, and Sarah sat down on her couch, ready for a long explanation and feeling the warmth of her sister's enthusiasm radiating from miles away. "She was married in secret and gave birth to a daughter, who had to be put into hiding when the plot to overthrow the royal family was revealed."

"This is the daughter you want to one day name your daughter after?"

"Yes, they named her… Oh!" Sarah jumped at Samantha's sudden exclamation. "I have to go! I'm supposed to meet Kingsley in half an hour!"

Sarah laughed. "You're leaving early for a change… you're never on time."

"Oh," Samantha said distractedly, and Sarah could hear her searching for her purse. "I was planning on running a quick errand beforehand. I'll call you as soon as I get back, okay? Don't die of anticipation; I promise I won't take long! Bye Sar! Love you!"

"I love you, too," Sarah laughed as she hung up. She sank back into the couch, smiling as she imagined her sister showing up twenty minutes late for her meeting with Kingsley. She would apologize, protesting, "But I swear I thought I'd only be ten minutes in Madam Malkins, but they'd just got in a new shipment of these beautiful silk scarves…"

Kingsley would laugh, order her a soda water, and assure her not to worry about her tardiness. Samantha had that effect on people – her constant light-heartedness crushed any other feeling – annoyance, worry, fear, pain… Sarah slowly got up, and turned back to her lemons, humming a cheery tune.

Samantha, meanwhile, hung up the phone and sighed. The smile fading from her lips, she murmured the reply she had nearly given her sister during the pause in their conversation. "But _he_ won't be safe with _me_."

She grabbed a pinch of powder and Flooed to Diagon Alley.

***

She was meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt on business for the Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore had recruited her because her expertise in charms would prove to be a great asset in a new project the Order had underway – a project she would learn about today. In an unprecedented bout of seriousness, Samantha decided to forego her visit to Madam Malkin's and head straight to the Leaky Cauldron. She could be early for once in her life for business this important

Her path brought her past Quality Quidditch Supplies, and she could not keep herself from slowing as she passed. Sirius still worked here on the odd hours when he wasn't on business for the Order. She wondered… but no, she wouldn't look. She turned away from the window display of dazzling Quidditch equipment and walked resolutely past.

But Sirius, catching a glimpse of her hair from behind the counter inside, could not as resolutely ignore _her_. He had missed something the other night, he was sure of it, and he was furious with himself for allowing his pain to blind him. Something was wrong with Samantha and he was not about to let his ignorance of it hurt her. "Teddy!" he called to one of the stores new employees. "Watch the register for me, will ya?" He dashed from the store before hearing Teddy's assent.

Once outside, he stopped in the middle of the Alley, staring at the shoppers lining the cobblestone street stretched out before him. _There_. He saw the swish of her periwinkle robes, the way the sun caught the golden highlights in her hair. 

"Samantha!" he called.

She knew the voice, and she stopped dead in the road. He could see her struggling, and in the end she couldn't resist. She turned. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The stretch of road between them, the bustling shoppers, all evaporated, and it was just the two of them on the street. Samantha couldn't help it – she began walking towards him, and somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that the force pulling her to Sirius was just as strong as the calling Tom had once used on her, yet this was of her free will.

Sirius watched her advancing, and his hand fell subconsciously to his pocket, where the small box he had been carrying around with him for a week still rested. When she stopped suddenly, still a good distance from him, he knew she was about to pull back. She looked pale, frightened, and she was gasping, trying to leave.

He wouldn't let her. "Marry me!" he cried suddenly.

It was too much. She had built up the power to resist him, but the surprise of his pronouncement shattered it. Before she knew it, he had rushed up to her and enveloped her in his arms. She melted. "Yes," she whispered, and for a moment she allowed herself to believe that it was real. She broke into a radiant smile as he pulled the box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a glittering diamond ring. He slipped it onto her finger while she gazed into his warm eyes, basking in his love. He kissed her, and in that moment she truly believed everything would turn out right.

And then it was as if everything was happening in slow motion.

A burning pain, starting where the new diamond ring glittered, and where a thin emerald ring had once rested, shot up Samantha's finger and through her body, scalding hot. It was happening, just as she knew it would. In that moment, Samantha realized that she had fallen into the trap she had promised to avoid. She had sworn to herself that Sirius would not get hurt more than was necessary. She had broken it off with him for a reason, broken his heart once, before their relationship progressed to a point that would make it more difficult to let go. Yet here she was, back in his arms. 

Except now she wasn't. Her body on fire, she was being pulled away from him, struggling to go back, grappling with the force pulling on her, desperate not to hurt Sirius again. But then she was running, crying, looking over her shoulder into his eyes, trying to apologize but unable to utter a word. The force propelled her onward, tearing down the street, but her gaze never moved from Sirius's face. She soaked it in, every detail of it, and just as he began to fade, she forced the words 'I love you' onto her lips.

She was gone.

Sirius remained standing in the street staring after her for a full five minutes, numb and motionless. He was roused by the bells of the communication device the Order had distributed to its members. Flicking it open, he saw Kingsley Shacklebolt's concerned face reflected inside. "Sirius," it said. "Do you know where Samantha is? She was supposed to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron ten minutes ago."

After a long, blank stare at the device in his hand, Sirius responded, his voice emotionless, "I don't think she's coming."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Kingsley joked. "You know Sam; she's always late. I was just wondering if you could tell me _how_ late she'll be, since you're usually the one holding her up!" Sirius flinched, but Kingsley obviously didn't notice, as he chuckled heartily. "But if you don't know, I wouldn't worry. She'll show up eventually."

"Yes," Sirius murmured, grasping on to that hope. "She'll show up eventually."

Little did he know that 'eventually' would not come for three years.


End file.
